Save me from me
by Mrs.Firefly
Summary: Post-war fiction. Hermione attempts to cope with what Bellatrix and company did to her at Malfoy manor but she's failing miserably. Can she be saved from... herself? Or is there more to it? Mostly Angst at this point. Future romance planned. Genre 2 is going to be drama until I reveal second major plot line. Warning: Substance abuse, PTSD, other dark themes
1. Chapter 1

**AN1: Yes... I know, I should be updating A Battle of Wills rather than starting new stories! I'll admit: I am a proud binge music listener and sometimes when I get hooked on a song I can listen to it on repeat for hours or even days. Well this time it was Lady Gaga's Telephone and it gave me this idea.**

 **It was a pretty good outlet though, I needed one so I could write dark dark angst-y stuff. I'm hoping that if I can write it out of my system I'll have more fun and light stuff for Battle of Wills so yay for this one, right? :)**

 **Also this is yet another musical story: Unsurprisingly Lady Gaga's Telephone is the recommended song but just about anything in the same vein will do.**

* * *

 **SAVE ME...FROM ME**

A shapely brunette stepped into the dimly lit club, instantly commanding the attention of a number of males and females. Her aura radiated self-confidence as she stepped onto the dance floor, basking in the feeling of eyes caressing and undressing her from afar. A single predatory glance at her surroundings told her that there were at least half a dozen people shadowing her, trusting that primal instinct pumping in their veins that led them to believe that a worthy prey had just entered the game. Scoffing under her breath the young witch internally rolled her eyes, confident that she could play any and all of them and it would be her bending the rules and their will to her desire. She had the intention of using them to satisfy that carnivorous craving eating at her soul, forcing her out at night, from the warmth of her bed.

It had been six months since the fall of Voldemort and she had yet to adjust to the lack of constant adrenaline rush that being on the run had provided. At first it was barely noticeable, the first few weeks of rounding up rogues provided her fix almost on a daily basis. But then the nightmares started creeping to the forefront from the darkest edges of her consciousness, robbing her of her sleep. She had not told anyone, telling herself that it would pass. She expected to at least find solace in her wake hours but _that_ was also there, etched into her arm as a constant reminder. And she found that she could not cope. She felt empty and filthy, especially at night. _'I don't wanna think any more…'_ was the last coherent thought in her head as she started moving her body to the pumping rhythm of the music.

At first she just enjoyed the music, her eyes were closed and no one else existed. With the aid of an almost inaudibly murmured spell she deftly avoided contact of any sort. To the utter confusion of the muggles around her, whenever someone even thought about approaching her she just happened to dance away from them, despite her eyes being closed. The stimulant potion she concocted earlier that day was finally kicking in, making her body buzz and her brain just fuzzy enough around the edges to lull her senses. Finally she opened her eyes, surveying the crowd expectantly.

In a matter of seconds the first brave wannabe approached her, gyrating to the music, presenting his mating dance in the hope of attracting her attention. Sizing up her first prey of the night Hermione looked at him from thigh to head – never the other way around – and deciding that she did not like the offering – _'ugh, too greasy'_ – she threw him a disdainful glance of dismissal and turned her back on him.

The next candidate appeared to be much better prey. This one was a slim latino woman, with hair as black as the night and a set of smouldering brown eyes that promised a night of fiery passion. Smirking in approval she stepped closer as their eyes locked, her prey assuming they were circling one another, silently communicating their expectations. She felt the first welcome spikes of adrenaline as their bodies connected, silently dueling as they adjusted to each other's rhythm. As always, it was her nameless prey that eventually gave up control and followed Hermione's lead.

They had been dancing like that for some minutes, Hermione skillfully avoiding the woman's seeking mouth, baiting her only to reel her in and let her loose before the first brush of lips could happen. She enjoyed the tension building between them but it was not enough. It was never enough. She turned around, momentarily giving up control of their movements as she glanced around for a second prey.

The woman eagerly seized control, snuggling sensually to Hermione's jeans-clad ass, her hands ghosting over the witch's hips as her crotch connected with the well-toned backside of the slippery siren she thought she was hunting down.

Hermione wasn't even phased by the new sensation, she was expecting it. Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for someone preposterous enough to assume that they could get a two for one deal. Soon enough, a nicely built specimen presented himself. Silk shirt stretching over a well-toned chest, an almost too well-groomed circle beard, dark hair, and most importantly, no sign of hair gel which allowed his hair to move around his face to the rhythm of the music. _'Mmm, me likes. Something to grab onto.'_ Catching his attention was not necessary, he was eyeballing the two women intently, looking for an opening – one that Hermione was secretly eager to give. She but had to crook a finger in his direction and he was coming onto them like a puppy dog. ' _How… pathetic.'_ Hermione thought as she turned back, offering her backside to the approaching male, knowing that her female partner might need to be coaxed into the new situation.

Upon turning she found herself to be yet again correct, the woman she'd been dancing with was clearly showing various signs of doubt despite her inebriated state. Hermione turned her seductive vibes up into full gear, giving the woman her best fuck-me- senseless smirk from not more than an inch afar, her eyes radiating sexual promise.

The woman still looked skeptical, especially when the newcomer's hands snaked around erotically gyrating hips, but Hermione knew just the cure. She threw another suggestive look at the woman, an eyebrow raised expectantly as the very tip of her tongue grazed her upper lip. It worked like a charm. Always. The woman was just about ready to devour her before the guy stepped in and was almost as ready after Hermione's little stunt. She knew it was a challenge. As the woman stepped closer again, she grabbed her by the back of the neck single-handedly and dragged her into a scorching kiss.

* * *

"She's there." Harry said, elbowing his best mate in the ribs and discretely pointing out the third of their trio who was currently sandwitched between random strangers. At first they had been clueless about their friend's behaviour, albeit for different reasons. Harry was so engrossed in building a new life with Ginny that the two of them often disappeared, while Ron...Ron was just clueless as to why the woman he so desperately wanted to date started acting out recently.

When the redhead finally spotted _his_ Hermione sandwitched between some random beefcake and...a woman? His first response was a jealous rage but upon seeing Hermione enthusiastically making out with a woman he was struck dumb. After what seemed like hours he tore his gaze from the sight and turned to Harry. "You knew she swings that way!?" He asked incredulously. Not that he had anything against gays but he just understood that the whole bloody world was a potential rival when it came to the attentions of the curly brunette.

* * *

Hermione broke the kiss as the need for air was slowly becoming an issue. ' _Hot damn, this woman can kiss. I wonder if she has other skills I might be interested in..._ ' A decidedly smug expression graced her features and she was about to dive back in but she caught something from the corner of her eye. She subtly turned her head to the right, which the night's conquest assumed was an invitation and she eagerly started planting wet kisses down the now otherwise engaged brunette's throat. Hermione used the muggles to her advantage as she manoeuvred them into a position that allowed her a better view of what she wanted to see. ' _God knows I've had to repair those bloody glasses enough times to never mistake them for anything else...'_ Hermione thought with displeasure as she realized that it really was Harry and Ronald, most likely looking for her. They did not seem to have noticed her yet and she was going to make sure it stayed that way.

* * *

"You think we should call McG? She totally screwed us over the last three times..." Ron asked, staring at Harry in an effort to not accidentally look at them again.

"I don..." Harry started only to be cut off mid-sentence.

"There's no need for that..." Came a disembodied voice in a decidedly Scottish lilt. Only his Auror training kept Ron from yelping and jumping a feet away at the unexpected sound of his ex-professor's more than stern voice. After a pause, most likely smirking at Ron's terrified deer in the headlights expression, she finished the sentence "...as I am already here."

"Pr-professor, oh, fancy you here." Ron said, momentarily forgetting about their mission.

"Perhaps under more agreeable circumstances." She said flatly. "And Minerva will do."

While listening to his best friend and ex-professor's antics he noticed that the music, completely out of sync with what had been played before, changed suddenly to something he had noticed he heard the last three times as well. The muggles around them seemed completely oblivious, adjusting to the new song without a pause, leading Harry to assume that they were hearing something entirely different.

 _Stop coming', stop coming',_

 _I don't wanna think anymore!_

 _I left my head and my heart at the battle before._

 _Stop callin', stop callin',_

 _I don't wanna talk anymore!_

"Dammit, she spotted us." Harry growled, taking a purposeful step forward only to falter a moment later. "We've lost her... goddamnit! I told you we should have used polyjuice." He cursed under his breath.

"Care to elaborate?" Came the still disembodied voice of the renowned Transfiguration Mistress.

"She spotted us. She's using some kind of a bloody complex glamour spell. It's impossible to find her like that. She could be any one of those people in there." He ground out, angry at himself for allowing this to happen again.

"I would not have assumed that Hermione...would be so far off the deep end that she would be openly using magic like that in front of muggles?" Minerva made it a question, her voice betraying her utter shock even without the facial expression to go with it.

"She's not." Ron said. Both sets of eyes snapped to him, although he could only see one of them. He actually had the good grace to look guilty for not sharing sooner. "Yesterday I confronted her about just that. Told her that she could end up in serious trouble for violating the international statute of secrecy..."

"And?" Came the impatient urging from nowhere.

"At first I thought it would just earn me a disdainful scoff but then she told me that dragging her in front of the Wizengamot was not necessary. She said something about a special charm that worked differently for muggles and magical beings. Apparently it works with muggles like a sort of glamour. She doesn't change shape or whatever but whatever she might be doing she looks completely normal and uninteresting, while with magical people it's like polyjuice."

For a minute neither of his companions spoke a word, and eventually it was Minerva who spoke up. "That is a remarkable bit of spell work. And she's doing this wandlessly I presume? Truly remarkable." She paused a moment to gather her thoughts. "It is a good thing that Harry lent me his invisibility cloak. It puts us at an advantage."

"But prof... Minerva. What can you do if you don't know where she is? How could you find her if we can't? You're a magical person too!" Ron said, not noticing what he said until after it was too late, growing beet red in the process.

"Ehm... well thank for that assessment Mr. Weasley." Minerva dead panned. Although she had to admit that without the power of facial expressions it was only half the fun. "A tip for your Auror training: you have not only eyes. Sometimes your other senses come in handy. Especially if you are an animagus." With that she brushed past the two, intent on knocking some sense into the woman she saw in an obscene situation just a moment ago. "Stay there and...make a spectacle of being completely at a loss."

* * *

Hermione, on her part, groaned in satisfaction when she allowed a hand to slip into her pants. It had been trying for about the hundredth time that night but she would have none of it before. She manoeuvred her dance partners into a relatively darker corner of the club. Not that she needed the privacy for what she was about to do, but it would certainly ease her drunken conquests' minds. Public sex was not something most people were into even if they were as drunk off their asses as these two. She shot one final glance at her friends who looked completely dumbstruck by her little decoy, her expression saddening for a moment – ' _You should have understood that you can't save everyone…' –_ before she turned her attention back to her own distractions.

* * *

When Minerva closed her eyes and focused on her other senses they heightened exponentially. One of the wonderful aspects of being an animagus was that she learned to trust her smell and hearing just as well as her sight. Knowing that she would have no use for the latter, she threw out the proverbial net of her other sensors, seeking out the young woman.

It was her ears that gave her the first hint of where the woman's general location might be. Her delicate hearing could pick up a thousand various sounds in her immediate surroundings depending on what she focused on. Music, rustling clothes, skin on skin, voices speaking, humming, singing... moaning. Taking her time to allow the wave of sounds to wash over her she stood motionless in the middle of the crowd. After a few minutes passed she picked up a sound that could belong to no other than Hermione. To Minerva's utter shock the woman was already moaning and groaning due to whatever atrocious attentions she might be receiving from her random conquests.

Once she knew where to look, it was a piece of cake for Minerva's keen senses to pick up Hermione's unique smell. The club felt completely saturated with sexual tension but even among so many distractions she could clearly pinpoint exactly where Hermione was. It was a clever spell, she never would have guessed her to be hiding behind the glamour of that specific muggle woman who appeared to be dancing rather awkwardly with a man at the very edge of the dance floor.

At first she just picked up the scent of her skin, but a fraction of a moment later something else assaulted her nostrils. She picked up on the musky scent of Hermione's arousal. _'Goodness woman. What the bloody hell do you think you are doing!?'_ Minerva did not know whether to be angry, disgusted, aroused or mortified at being aroused in such a situation. The bright young witch was worth so much more than this. She pushed away all thoughts of the inexplicable heat collecting between her thighs. She would have to deal with that mystery visitor later. Much later.

* * *

Hermione felt alive. She found that the excitement of having sex in the middle of the crowd, without said crowd even noticing, was an extreme aphrodisiac – one that seemed to be instantly addictive. Her original plan was to take these two somewhere else but her friends' arrival pissed her off and one thing led to another... and now she found herself tumbling into a new level of excitement. There was a naked erection shamelessly pressing into the lower section of her back, just above her ass while a hand of each of her conquests were shoved up under her skirt, hurrying her along the much welcomed passage of pleasure towards her release.

* * *

Minerva felt that it was rather difficult to concentrate with all of Hermione's constant moaning and groaning assaulting her ears, not to mention the slick wet popping sounds that were increasing in speed. _'Sweet Merlin, get a grip of yourself woman!'_ She growled at herself for the fourth time as she tried to block the obscene smells and sounds from her consciousness. Her eyes were screwed shut in desperation, focusing on the difficult spell she was about to perform.

Assuming that the young witch was far too gone to think about changing locations she resorted to completely blocking out all of her senses to be able to find that inner peace that was necessary for what she was about to do. Having used magic rather proficiently for the better part of the last five decades Minerva knew exactly how to counter whatever Hermione had done. She had to admit that were this an entirely different situation she would be most interested in how Hermione managed to use a charm that essentially worked in two ways at the same time; but right now she would be content to break it and make it her own. She sent her magic out of her body as if it was a disembodied hand, delicately caressing the edges of Hermione's glamour to get a feel of it. Then she set out to do what, since Albus's death, only she was able to do in the United Kingdom: instead of transfiguring matter, she transfigured Hermione's charm to shift and work as she saw it fit.

* * *

She was almost there. She felt completely animalistic as the raging erection at her back kept rubbing between her buttocks, resorting to seeking release there since she chose not to allow the poor sod inside. Both fingers and a mouth were now busily working her toward that bliss she craved. She could feel her pleasure begin that final ascent before throwing her over the edge, making her throw her head back at the chest that was conveniently there.

And then she felt it. Her magic had shifted. Her eyes snapped open, her orgasm momentarily forgotten as she stared into the crowd around her. Her most immediate panic was quenched as the muggles were still completely oblivious, they did not spare her so much as a glance. Despite her heightened attention to her surroundings she could feel her orgasm rearing its head again and her eyes rolled back into her head as it began to overpower her mind.

* * *

Minerva was shocked into speechlessness for all of five seconds when her spell revealed the trio to her. There was Hermione Granger, her star pupil, in all of her half-naked glory, about to climax right in front of her. A leg was draped over the shoulder of some woman whose face was buried between her thighs while a man she was clinging to was desperately thrusting away in a decidedly odd angle.

 _'Bloody hell...'_ Minerva thought before she finally found her voice. "Hermione Granger" she growled out "don't you dare disgrace yourself like that".

* * *

The voice continued to echo inside her head as her pleasure was abruptly turned into mortified shock. Her eyes snapped open yet again, only to be greeted by the absolutely livid expression in emerald green orbs not more than a feet away from her. She could do absolutely nothing but stare, wide eyed, mouth dropped open, she was in complete shock. Her leg came off the woman's shoulder of its own accord.

"Who's the crone? Yur...muther?" Came the slurred question from the dimwit stud that was still half-heartedly attempting to shag Hermione's buttocks.

A moment later he crashed into the wall with a gurgling scream as a fist connected with his nose and broke it effortlessly. The woman was either not as dumb or she simply sobered up after witnessing the brutal beating because she knelt there silently, and Minerva could swear that she was not even breathing. With economic wand movements she obliviated both their minds but before she could turn her attention towards Hermione there was a familiar pop as the young witch apparated away from scene.

* * *

Harry and Ron were alerted by the soul shattering scream, that was let out by a distinctly male voice. It was obvious that the entire club had heard because the music suddenly died down and everyone started chattering, wondering where the screaming was coming from.

The two young aurors-in-training pushed past the jostling crowd to where they had last seen Minerva but they could not make heads or tails of the situation. Clearly there was a man with a broken nose sitting by the wall, cradling his face with one hand while he attempted to nudge his now flaccid penis back into his pants but the crowd did not seem to be aware of this.

Both young men looked at their ex-professor for clarification. "Disillusionment with a bit of a twist. Much like the Knight Bus." She said, her voice still shaky with anger "Let us retreat for now. Hermione's gone. She apparated before I could so much as say a word to her."

* * *

 **To Be continued?**

 **Shall I? Can Hermione be saved from herself? Or should this be a 'never after' type of oneshot?**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: slightly AU in terms of school not starting immediately on 1** **st** **September 1998. My take is that Hogwarts sustained so much damage that it is slightly more difficult to rebuild even with magic so the four months between Voldemort's fall and the next term were not enough and the Board of Governors voted that under age students were not to return to the castle until it was fully operational and safe. As such, 7** **th** **years over the age of 17 could optionally volunteer to help if they wanted but they could also opt out and start their final year in 1999.**

 **Warning: this is heavy stuff here. Substance abuse and coping with withdrawal symptoms such as paranoia and hallucinations.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

„Bloody hell..." Ron groaned for the umpteenth time as Minerva related to them a heavily edited version of what transpired in those fifteen minutes, leaving out both the quasi-orgasm as well as the fact that Hermione had basically been on display. Well... she did not really tell the young men what had really happened. _'All they needed to really know about was the addiction...'_ The animagus internally rolled her eyes at Ron's inadequate response all the while refusing to acknowledge the thoughts that were creeping up on her as memory flashbacks assaulted her mind. ' _Latter, much later still._ '

"Do you have any suggestion where she might have gone to hide?" Minerva inquired, hoping that she could find the girl and salvage whatever was left of the young witch's sense of self-worth. Part of her was furious and believed that if this had been going on for months than Hermione had it coming. But her more compassionate and caring side dreaded the possibility that if Hermione was teetering so dangerously close to the edge this night might have only supplied the excuse for her to fall beyond hope.

Ron and Harry exchanged looks, silently reading each other. It was Harry who eventually spoke up, saying "Hogwarts. She's either hiding out at Hogwarts or her parents' deserted house."

"But… if she doesn't want to be found…she's not going to be there. She'd know those would be the first places we'd look." Ron objected.

Minerva had to admit that the boy's reasoning was sound. From one perspective. But the fundamental aspect in which Minerva disagreed was the notion that Hermione wish not to be found. Her behavior was screaming for attention and it was quite clear to Minerva that the young witch desperately wanted to be saved from something. Her only concern was that she seemed to be looking in the worst of places.

"I shall cover the Granger house and Hogwarts." Minerva declared. "As for the two you...go to her flat and start emptying it of absolutely everything related to potion making." Minerva ordered in her best no-nonsense tone. She had instantly picked up the foul smell of an intoxicating potion and knew that this problem would need to be addressed as soon as possible.

"What? Why? Wouldn't it be better to split up? We can help you cover…" Harry started to object.

"You will do no such thing! Harry Potter, for once do as I say?" Minerva snapped impatiently. In an attempt to calm her nerves she added "please" As an afterthought. "She's been abusing a goddamn potion that could ruin her within months to weeks if it hasn't already. Go to her flat and take every single magical item."

Both young men stared at her in stunned silence. She had meant to ease the boys into this knowledge more gently but time was of the essence. She needed to find the young witch.A persistent little voice at the back of her mind started berating her bitterly for the way she handled tonight. Guilt reared its ugly head and Minerva kicked herself hard for botching their mission. She was desperate to find the young woman, worried that in her utter mortification she might try to end her life. _'Merlin, just don't let her do something foolish before I can get to her…'_

"Profess…Minerva. What are you keeping from us? How are you so certain?" Harry demanded. He never could quite take it in stride when secrets were kept from him.

"I'm an animagus Potter, I could smell it on her. Now GO!" Minerva ground out before she apparated from the scene, praying that for once in their lives the Golden boys would do as they were told.

* * *

 _'Oh god oh god ohghod...'_ The two words kept repeating in her head in panic. When Hermione's eyes connected with the shocked emerald green gaze of none other than Minerva McGonagall the younger witch begged whatever powers that were to open the earth beneath her feet and swallow her whole. She watched in paralyzed terror as her former mentor decked the sleaze-ball she had picked out for the night before instinct finally kicked in and she apparated away.

Miraculously she had not splinched herself within an inch of her life in her current state, although she was not at her senses enough to actually understand that. Entering the closed construction area of the castle she blindly stumbled towards a safe place where she could hide. She was half-way through the mostly rebuilt hallways when noise caught her disheveled attention and she grabbed for her wand. Her hand was trembling badly enough that she had to hold onto her wrist with the other hand to be able to stabilize it.

* * *

Instinct told Minerva to start with Hogwarts. The vast castle was well on its way to be fully operational again but there were still quite a few 'hot spots' that the aurors and curse breakers were unable to deal with. For this reason, combined with the fact that apart from staff and voluntarily returning 7th years the building was mostly deserted, the castle promised much better hiding places than the small Granger house.

She also knew that even in her state Hermione would be aware that there was a potions lab at the school with every ingredient she could possibly need to brew the evil potion if the craving rose again. She first appeared in front of what the potions classroom but upon entering she found that both the work stations and the stores were undisturbed and not a soul was to be found there.

* * *

Hermione was shivering, partially from the cold she felt due to her half dressed state, but she was also suffering from the combination of shock and on-setting withdrawal symptoms. The last potion she had taken was wearing off, leaving her in a dreadful state of nervous uncertainty. When a random harmless cat walked into her line of sight she nearly screamed, assuming that it was Minerva coming after her to punish her. The young witch nearly hexed the poor creature who jumped and made a run for it after the first failed attempt.

 _'I... need a safe place to hide. I'm not safe here...she'll come after me._ ' Hermione thought. She thought of going to the Hospital Wing hoping to find a potion or other to fight the nausea but she found she could not enter. She had stood there some minutes but she dreaded running into Poppy. _'Not good...they're...there. Poppy's with them. I need to hide. Poppy would rat me out to Minerva...'_

* * *

A loud crack announced the concerned animagus' arrival at the front door of the library. She refrained from apparating directly into the room lest Hermione should hear her and retreat before she had a chance to talk to her. The door was ajar which provided the animagus with some hope. ' _It would be so much like Hermione to run to the library for solace even in her darkest hours.'_ Minerva thought with a bitter-sweet smile.

She transformed quickly and snuck inside, hoping that in her feline form she'd be perceived as less of a threat if Hermione spotted her first. The library had been one of the first rooms to be fully repaired as everyone was loath to let the books be ruined. Ducking behind shelves and crawling under tables to avoid detection she began scouting the area methodically, her ears rotating all the while, searching for the faintest of sounds.

' _Where would I hide, if I did not want to be found…yet wished to be saved from myself?'_ Minerva mused. Suddenly she had a brilliant flash of an idea she scurried out of the obviously empty library.

* * *

Hermione's descent into the dungeon was relatively less adventurous as she had managed to avoid bumping into anyone. Although she failed to appreciate the fact that at three in the morning that was to be expected in a castle that barely housed a fraction of its usual population. She always thought that the dungeons were creepy but tonight they were especially so. Just before turning to the hallway that would lead to the potions classroom she was spooked by a moving shadow and ended up blasting a poorly aimed stinging hex at the wall.

After she reassured herself that no one was there she finally reached the potions classroom. She stood in the shadows, trying to pull the remaining shreds of her courage together to enter the classroom. _'God... I need another potion.'_ Vaguely acknowledging that she was taking further steps down the slippery slope she thought she could escape when she first drowned her frustration in the stuff, she could not find it in herself to fight it today. She vindicated herself by blaming it on Minerva. If the woman had not done what she had then she would not be in such a state. She'd have had those two shag the living daylights out of her after which she would have proceeded to pass out and be done with it.

* * *

Minerva paced impatiently before a segment of wall that she knew would normally reveal the Room of Requirement. To her astonishment her expectations were completely thwarted as minutes passed and the Room would still not reveal itself. She vaguely remembered that the curse breakers reported last week that they had had no luck in entering the Room but she had hoped that in the meantime they might have made _some_ progress. Of course, being Headmistress did offer her a variety of alternatives. There were spells within her arsenal that forced the Room to reveal itself.

* * *

Hermione choked back an anguished howl as the glass container smashed on the floor. She was about to add the last ingredient into the simmering cauldron when a sudden jolt, not unlike a tiny electric shock, informed her that the wards on her flat had been breached. She was so focused on her task that she was taken by surprise and she dropped the phial. _'Son of a motherfucking...'_ Knowing that she had just broken the last phial of elventoad saliva, which was the key ingredient to the potion she was craving, she angrily knocked the cauldron off the fire.

 _'They're ransacking my flat... they're going to find out. They're going to lock me up.'_

* * *

To say that Harry was shocked at the state Hermione's flat was would have been the understatement of the year. ' _Where have I been all this time to not notice the signs?'_ He and Ron arrived to a complete mess. There were empty liquor bottles strewn about the floor, a pile of pizza boxes containing half-eaten mouldy pizzas and the entire flat smelled like a rancid potions lab.

"When was the last time either of us visited Hermione?" Harry asked the obvious question. He knew he had been somewhat neglectful recently what with him planning to propose to Ginny but the state of this flat clearly indicated that Hermione had been having issues for far longer. He also hadn't expected that Ron would have missed this. All he ever could talk about was Hermione, he assumed that they were keeping more in contact.

"She told me she was going to Australia to find her parents." Ron replied, his voice thick with astonishment. Clearly Hermione had been lying to her. He accidentally bumped into Hermione about a month ago when he did notice that the young witch seemed unnerved at their chance encounter but he assumed that perhaps her parents were giving her a hard time for what she did. However, the flat looked like it had been unkempt for months.

They realized that something was off after they bumped into her on the street in the early hours of one morning about two weeks ago, completely wasted. At the time they just assumed it was a one-off thing. She slept for nearly a day at The Burrow after which she vanished without so much as a word. She had grown secretive. She avoided her friends, family, everyone. Both boys tried visiting nearly every day since but soon learned to grow weary of the witch after she nearly hexed them for voicing their concern. How the Daily Prophet was not covering the story front page was a mystery for both of them.

"Let's put this place back in order…" Harry said, taking out his wand, already weary of the Herculean task.

* * *

Hermione sat in a corner of the deserted Gryffindor Common room, hugging her legs close to her in a foetal position. ' _Gods why did it have to be Minerva of all people?'_ She was fairly sure that she would never be able to look the woman in the eyes ever again. Violent sobs erupted from her throat convulsively as she attempted to gain some semblance of self-control but the hysterical crying would not stop. She unconsciously clawed at the scar on her forearm as she broke down, leaving angry red welts in the wake of her nails.

* * *

Minerva's vision blurred as her head connected with the stone wall she was blown into. She realized her mistake too late after she forced the Room to drop the heavy chains with which its doors appeared. The doors flew open from the pressure of hot air contained within the room with an explosion that sent Minerva flying. The still raging Fiendfyre showered the corridor with an orange hue just long enough for Minerva to glimpse at it. The sentient fire roared with a vengeance, taking the shape of a stalking predator, intent on spilling out of its containment but the Room's doors closed with a force that echoed for a full minute. _'That sounded like an I-told-you-so'_ Minerva thought, wincing at the resonating sound before her eyes rolled back into her head.

* * *

Hermione's head jerked up, her eyes alert the moment she heard the explosion. A year on the run during a war drilled reflexes into her that cut through even the deepest fog of her on-setting depression. She gripped her wand tightly but she could not budge. Whatever erupted with such force broke her trance-like stupor of self-loathing but she could not care enough to actually seek it out and do something about it. She had given so much of herself for this war. For this victory that did not seem to be hers. And what did she get in return? A cruelly disfiguring scar she could not heal, nightmares that blended even into her wake hours and an addiction she could not kick. _'Why should I give even more of myself? There's almost nothing left... And do I need yet another nightmare I would not be able to fight?'_

* * *

 _Half an hour later…._

Minerva came to with a mind-numbing headache. _'Of all the bloody stupid…'_ She cursed silently as she realized what just happened. The Room had clearly been trying to protect her. _'Well…at least I know Hermione cannot be in there.'_

Slowly she picked herself up off the stone floor checking for further injuries but it seemed that the slight concussion might be the only harm. She could survive a concussion for a bit longer. Wandlessly she cast a charm that would stave off the more bothersome effects until she could find a minute to visit Poppy. But she needed to find Hermione first.

' _Where ARE you Hermione…? If not in the library… or the Room of Requirement…'_ Minerva was at a loss and in a desperate attempt stumbled towards Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

"Dammit, I am sick and tired of cleaning up all of this crap." Ron exclaimed in exasperation. _His_ Hermione was out there somewhere, Merlin knew doing what and he did not take kindly to being forced to do housework of all things. "If she's really THIS unwell we should be by her side."

"If Minerva told us to stay away she must have had a good reason to do so." Harry ground out, growing impatient with his best friend's ranting. He didn't like being here any more than Ron did but he had a gut feeling that the situation was delicate enough to warrant paying attention to the older witch, despite their general tendency to do exactly the opposite.

"I don't bloody care what McGonagall said! I want Hermione safe!" Ron had had enough. "You can stay if you want but I'm going to check her parents' house." The moment the last word left his lips he was gone with a loud crack, forcing Harry to follow him.

* * *

The Fat Lady's portrait came to life when she saw Minerva approach, putting a finger silently in front of her lips. Minerva's heart rate doubled at the notion that the Lady might be implying that Hermione really was inside.

Her hopes were confirmed when the Fat Lady whispered. "She's in a terribly foul state, Headmistress. Do be careful with the child." And with that she allowed Minerva inside.

The animagus tried to creep into the Gryffindor common room as silently as she could, but in her state she was not particularly stealthy. Nor did she dare turn into her animal counterpart, never having done that before while recovering from a head injury. Her vision was still not perfect but she was fairly certain she could see a tangle of bushy hair just behind the currently unused fireplace.

"I could just hex you, you know…obliviate your mind" Hermione said suddenly, startling Minerva into a stop. The older witch gripped her wand just a fraction tighter.

"I suppose…" came the careful reply. "But… the Hermione I know would never willingly hurt a friend who was obviously injured…" just as she expected that earned her a glance.

Taking in the sight before her Hermione noticed the torn robes and the fact that soot covered her from head to foot. There was also a rather nasty looking patch of drying blood on her cheek. Part of her wanted to ask what happened but she was still so ashamed and angry that her entire being was consumed fighting herself not to flee. So she kept silent, face averted from what she expected to be a reproachful glare. "You're not even real, are you?" She suddenly asked. "I've been having hallucinations you know... I bet you're just one of them... Professor McGonagall is probably disgusted with me right now..." She said in a self-deprecating tone.

Minerva, felt a pang of pain at the harsh words. _'Merlin if only you knew...'_ The animagus ever so slowly approached the girl, weary of spooking her. "Hermione…you're not well." She said. No response. She was a mere two steps from her. "I am not disgusted with you. I am worried for you." Not daring to take the final steps, she crouched so their eyes could be level. That is, if she could _somehow_ get her star pupil to just look at her.

"You need help." She tried again. This earned her the stiffening of shoulders. She mentally prepared herself for the storm that was likely to come. "Let me help you."

"I don't need help". Came the defiant reply. Her voice was oozing self-loathing and she still refused to look at her. "Why would you want to help me anyway…?"

"Because I care about you. More than you would know." Minerva attempted to put every last ounce of love and care into those words, willing the young witch to understand that she did not have to fight her demons alone. She had always been protective of all of her cubs but she never denied that this specific little lioness was one of her absolute favourites. And she knew what it was like to survive a war, she was sure she could help the young woman deal if only she would let her.

Hermione attempted to brush her off with a huff.

"The excessus potion will not take away your pain." Her shoulders stiffened again. _'Good.'_

Contemplating what to do, Minerva slowly raised a hand and put it on Hermione's shoulder. They barely made contact for a fraction of a moment before Hermione jumped away as if Minerva's touch had burnt her. "Don't touch me!" She hissed, scrambling backwards to get away.

She cracked her head against the stone wall in her attempt to put some distance between herself and her Transfiguration professor but Minerva was not about to let it go so easily. She grabbed an arm as Hermione struggled to get to her feet. She herself stood, effectively pulling the girl into a standing position.

"Hermione, I am serious. I am not letting you go. You need help. Let me help you." Minerva pleaded.

"Screw you! Let me go, I don't need your help!" Hermione lashed out, tugging at her arm, all the while keeping her face averted, not bearing the sight of her former mentor.

The words stung Minerva but she knew it was a rouse. The girl would have pushed anyone away at this point. She grabbed the other arm before the girl could reach for her wand.

"Hermione! I am not about to let you ruin yourself! Running from reality is the answer of a coward!" Minerva chose her words carefully. She wanted them to sting. If pleading didn't work then she needed something to break through the girl's walls, something to penetrate deep enough to allow her to start working through her pain.

"A coward, Minerva?" Hermione hissed, finally turning her head to stare into impossibly green eyes. "Is that what you think of me?"

"That is the picture you are painting of yourself…" Minerva said. "Excessus potions? Public sex like a common whore? Is this really better than asking for help?" Minerva could feel her facial expression hardening upon the memory of Hermione's outrageous behaviour.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, judging me like that?" Hermione spat, struggling against the iron grip of the animagus.

"I believe I used to be your teacher. And had high hopes to be your friend in the future." Minerva said truthfully. Hermione was one of the very few students whom she had wanted to befriend after they were released from their professional bond.

"Yeah I guess that went south when you saw me dripping wet on a dance floor, and filling your ears with obscene noises, didn't it?" Hermione said bitterly. It was clear that she was not pleased with herself.

Minerva's face flushed in embarrassment as the mere mention of that episode brought up vivid images she could not clear from her mind. This time it was she who averted her eyes. That was an image she seriously considered getting obliviated in the future.

Misinterpreting Minerva's lack of answer for guilt Hermione scoffed in angry disgust. "You liked that, didn't you? Is that it? Wanted a piece of ass after you saw me, eh?" Hermione hissed cruelly. The shame she felt after the events at the club was warping her mind and she lashed out in anger. She lunged at Minerva and captured unwilling lips in a crushing kiss.

Minerva's mind reeled at the sudden development of events and without thinking tore her lips from the desperate kiss and slapped Hermione hard across the cheek. ' _Merlin, she was making this harder than it already was.'_

Seconds ticked by as silence fell upon the room and a very clear, bright red imprint was becoming visible on Hermione's cheek. Both witches stared at the other in shock for a moment before Hermione redoubled her efforts to free herself from the death grip Minerva now had on her wrists. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, putting up such a serious fight that Minerva contemplated putting her in a full body bind. The only reason she did not do so was because she did not wish to violate the girl's trust any further than she had already done.

To her utter shock Hermione managed to free a hand and actually pulled her wand from its hiding place, seemingly about to hex her in an attempt to escape. Acting more instinctively than anything, she twisted the wand from her hand and using the sheer physical force of her slightly larger frame she effectively sandwitched the girl between herself and the stone wall. Minerva winced as their bodies collided, her own head rocking painfully upon the impact but a moment later she magically knocked the girl unconscious. ' _So much for not violating her trust...'_

A mixture of relief and shame washed over her as she watched the younger witch's eyes roll up into her head as she passed out, slouching lifelessly into the arms of an exhausted Transfiguration Mistress. With the last of her strength she apparated them both to the only location she could think of.

* * *

 **Like it? PLEASE REVIEW! I'd love to hear your thoughts on how you think this is progressing.**

AN2: I had a review on the last chapter from an anonymous guest so I could not reply unfortunately. Thank you for taking the time to point that out to me, it made me think about it for quite some time. I'll admit that I was completely oblivious about such ethnic stereotyping (I've never lived in America so I don't have first-hand experience) and had absolutely no intention of being disrespectful. I'm sorry if any unintentional stereotyping on my part was upsetting.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: For the next few chapters I'm turning this one into a musical fiction. I'm guessing maybe the next 2-3 chapters. Let me know how you like the song selection.**

 **This chapter's song: „Cold" By Five Finger Death Punch – it's one of their milder songs so go ahead and listen even if you are not into rock/metal – it won't hurt *winks***

 **I mainly listen to rock/metal bands so I'm also up for angsty song suggestions that are from other genres (as I suspect that some of you out there reading this story might find this kind of music unbearable). If I find some that I like I might just end up using them in the next chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 3:

Ron was furious. _His_ Hermione was in trouble and his best mate had the audacity to try to keep him from finding her. He knew that he had to grow up in a big way to be able to maintain the interest of such a witch as Hermione. The ginger haired man was sort of expecting that if he could ride in like a hero to save her would be as good a start as any. And selfish aspect aside, he also really wanted to know her safe, even if McGonagall of all people did end up being the hero...again. _'Hmpf... Hermione's always been such a teacher's pet, and now go figure... her bloody idol of a teacher gets to her first.'_ He vaguely registered that his jealousy was far beyond him needing Hermione to pay more attention to him than her. It was sparked by a primal instinct the caveman must have had when he desired to possess the best cavewoman. Ron, however, refused to outright acknowledge that the older woman could be his rival. _'She's a bloody woman for Merlin's sake.'_ Yet ever since he saw Hermione kissing that woman he was not quite as sure about his manhood being an asset in this competition.

Ron looked around the living room of the abandoned Granger house and he could see almost immediately that noone had used the room in long months. _'Doesn't mean she couldn't have been apparating to one of the rooms straight away...'_ Auror training was rubbing off on Ron and the young man was quickly growing into a rather adept detective. Silently sneaking towards the closest exist he intended to examine them to determine whether it had been disturbed recently.

Just as he reached the first window a loud crack announced Harry's arrival who did not bother to be half as silent as his mate. "There's no one here Ron..." Harry said flatly. Most of his anger had vanished as he conducted the scouting spells that allowed him to do some marginal reconnaissance on the house before entering.

Ron shot him a dubious glance, silently requesting him to elaborate.

"Scouting spells..."

Ron's eyes bugged out of his eyes upon hearing what Harry had done. "Are you barking mental?" He yelped. "And if she HAD been here? And felt your magic? You know how creepy she is with detecting spells...she could have bolted!" Ron growled out angrily.

Realizing that his friend had a point there, Harry was about to admit that he could have screwed up but was saved by the sudden entry of a ghostly tabby cat, both men immediately recognizing it as Minerva McGonagall's patronus.

"I have found her...but she is in a rather terrible state, albeit in good hands. She's under a magical stasis spell, a sort of magically induced coma if you please. I shall let you know as soon as she can be visited." Not waiting for an answer the cat bounded out the way it came, dissolving mid jump.

* * *

"What do you mean you don't know if she'll be okay?" Minerva demanded, her eyes throwing daggers at the shaken mediwitch standing in front of her.

"I mean what I said. I don't know Minerva." Poppy replied. She had apparated instantly upon receiving the Headmistress' fire call and had been conducting diagnostic spells tirelessly. "She's malnourished, her kidneys are teetering dangerously close to shutting down..." Poppy's voice trailed off as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Merlin, Minerva... she's not only been using that dreadful potion but to make things worse she's also been abusing alcohol." She looked the older witch square in the eye as she said so, daring her to break their eye contact.

Unsaid words hung in the air heavily, as both witches remembered the painfully familiar conversation they had some decades ago. Minerva's stomach twisted into an anxious knot as she attempted to push away the surge of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. _'Now is not the time to mourn the past...'_ Seeing the pain well up in her long-time friend's eyes Minerva took a step closer and laid a reassuring hand on the medi-witch's shoulder. Poppy didn't do so much as shudder at the touch, yet Minerva, who had known the woman for close to three decades, saw the lump of guilt the woman was hiding "I trust you, Poppy. Help me. Help her. I know that if anyone can, it's you. You've seen this before."

"And I failed." Poppy said, doubt lacing her words thickly.

"There was so little of her left... Merlin, Poppy, there was NOTHING left of Agatha to save. But we may just be in time for Hermione. Don't let your guilt over the past take her one chance. Help us." Minerva all but begged the woman standing in front of her. She hadn't noticed that she said 'us' rather than 'her' but Poppy seemed to have picked up on it. Without any verbal comment she gave such a curt nod it was nearly imperceptible. Turing around sharply, she marched back into the room she came from, instructing Minerva not allow anyone to disturb her.

* * *

"Well I think that's the end of it." Harry said with a sigh. It was a right difficult job getting Ron to go back to Hermione's flat with him but eventually the upset redhead consented. It took them the better part of a couple of hours to get the rooms back in order – especially as neither of them were particularly well-versed in the art of housework charms. "Suppose we should do a final round? I wouldn't want McG after my hide if we missed anything..."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was... both bored and worried out of her misery. She dared neither leave nor nap and the living room provided precious little opportunity to get her mind off Hermione's terrible predicament. The single book that lay on the coffee table, _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_ was much too tedious, she found that she simply did not have the will concentrate on it. After attempting to read the same page for the fourth time and realizing that she did not register a single word she had read, she put the volume down impatiently.

Aching from having sat for such a long time, she stood from the otherwise soft and comfortable couch and began pacing back and forth. Unconsciously she started up the usual path she took when nothing but pacing seemed to relieve SOME of the stress. She wound in and out between sofas and comfy chairs, in front of the fireplace from the right up to the ancient grandfather clock to examine the time, then back the same rout to the door behind which the precious witch was currently held captive in a comatose state.

* * *

Everything seemed to be in order in Hermione's bedroom. It was modest in size yet it rather seemed like a cross between a bedroom and a library. In any other circumstances Harry would have thought it amusing but under present circumstances all he could do was look at every single item wondering if it had any hidden magical qualities. With a vaguely aimed flick of his wrist he conjured a summoning charm and was somewhat surprised when a shoebox flew into his hand from under the bed. _'Gee, it's a good thing I checked...I wonder what she's got stashed in here.'_

Upon opening the box Harry's ears immediately started burning and he could feel all of the blood rushing to his face before he snapped the lid back on. Taking a few experimental breaths he snuck a peak inside the box again. _'Yep...it's still...GOD I don't even want to think it!'_ He resisted the urge to actually touch it, although he had never seen one before. And he certainly did not think that he'd get to see one coming out from under Hermione's bed of all places. _'And I wonder what's magical about it...? Oh wait, no, no I do not want to know.'_ He quickly shrunk the item to the size of a matchbox and pocketed it. The last thing he wanted was for Ron to find it. _'Bloody hell... I reckon the poor bloke would have a fit if he found out...'_

* * *

"Minerva?" Poppy stuck her head out the door.

The animagus in question had been sprawled across the couch her head dangling from the armrest and she all but did a backwards somersault from the furniture when she heard her name.

"Yes, Poppy, what is it? Do you need anything?" Minerva asked, hurrying over to the entrance of the spare bedroom.

"Are you familiar with the muggle expression 'suicide watch'? The medi-witch asked sombrely.

"When muggles take preventive measures because they fear that someone might commit suicide?" Minerva asked to clarify.

"Exactly. I'd like to cast a magical version of it on Hermione but I need someone to be her watcher." The implication was obvious. Poppy was asking if Minerva would be willing.

"The fact that you are asking for my permission rather than telling me to do it or even going ahead with it suggests that there might be some... side-effects that I should be aware of?" Minerva was always rather quick-witted and she almost never failed to draw logical conclusions.

"Well...you do remember Balthasar Lovegood's penchant for...artistic expression?" Poppy asked, trying to gauge Minerva's reaction.

Said animagus took a deep breath, as the name brought back a flood of memories of a highly unusual boy who always had his head stuck in the clouds. He was astoundingly adept at learning new spells but he had an odd way of turning everything...musical. More often than not his spell-work was accompanied by music which effectively devastated his dream to become an auror. Eventually he ended up going into healer training.

"I see that you do." Poppy surmised, mirth gracing her features for a brief moment despite the seriousness of their conversation. "He developed the spell. Apparently he was keen on keeping the privacy of the one being watched and wished to... alert the watcher of suicidal thoughts without the actual use of legilimency."

The older witch was rather impressed. She had certainly had her fair share of disrespectful prodding from healers in her younger years and was glad that perhaps the newer generation was more sensitive to the sanctity of privacy.

"And...what? If Hermione has suicidal thoughts I'll hear an orchestra playing a melancholy tune?" Minerva guessed, perplexed.

"Well... not necessarily. We are talking about Hermione. It might be...somewhat more cryptic than that. But in a sense, yes. You'll continuously hear music that's constantly changing based on Hermione's mood. She's muggle-born so you are rather likely to hear a lot of muggle music." Poppy replied, wondering if Minerva would understand what that meant exactly.

And understand she did. The older woman considered the situation carefully. Hermione's withdrawal was bound to result in violent mood swings, which in turn had the potential of making Minerva's next few days or even weeks miserable and was likely to develop a rather nasty headache due to constantly listening to abruptly changing music. _'How the bloody hell am I going to run a school like that?'_

"I'll do it." She said suddenly. She knew that the young woman desperately needed help and for the life of her she could not think of any other person to take watch. She was not about to ruin the bright young witch by causing a scandal. As few people as possible needed to know about Hermione's predicament. _'And neither Potter nor Weasley can do it.'_

* * *

 _Three days later..._

* * *

"Now today...we will be transforming animals into water goblets." Minerva said with a bit of strain in her voice. As much as she loved teaching transfiguration the double burden of being headmistress and teaching all the transfiguration classes was taking its toll. She was, quite frankly, exhausted.

She thanked her luck that it happened to be Tuesday as second year's weren't particularly draining. _'Although... fifth year Hufflepuff-Gryffindor is going to be a pain.'_

She felt relief wash over her as she glanced at the hour-glass on her desk and noted that there couldn't have been more than ten minutes left of class. _'I cannot believe that there hasn't been any incidents today... must be my lucky day.'_

She was in mid-motion, intending on standing up to gain her pupils' attention, when suddenly a soft sound hit her animagus hearing. Frozen in her half-crouching stance over her chair she quite literally perked her ears when she realized that she was hearing music. _'Hermione...'_ Poppy had told her that the music would not start immediately as she had the young woman in a magically induced coma from which she needed to be weaned gradually. The medi-witch warned her to be prepared at any time as it really all depended on Hermione. The music would only start when her thoughts were coherent enough to be interpreted.

"Thank you class, that will be all for today. Homework is on the black board, due by Thursday's class." She managed to rasp out automatically, internally listening to the music. It was a rather melancholy song. [ **title in A/N** ]

 _I'm gazing upward, a world I can't embrace  
There's only thorns and splinters, venom in my veins_

Minerva needed all of her iron self-control not to apparate out of the classroom that instant. Her heart clenched in pity for the young woman, the song was heartbreakingly sad.

 _It's okay to cry out, when it's driving you insane  
But somehow someday, I'll have to face the pain_

The last of the students had finally left and fortunately no one wanted a word with her so she sent a patronus to Filius warning him that he needed to take acting headship again before apparating.

 _It's all so wrong...  
But who am I, who am I to say?_

Minerva felt a tear roll down her cheek as she collected herself, standing nervously in front of the makeshift nursery that offered refuge to Hermione. _'God, all this anguish... the poor girl is really beating herself up...'_

Finally working up her nerve to face the young woman after their last encounter she knocked on the door before entering.

* * *

 **TBC**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts. Do you need an inordinate amount of willing suspension of disbelief to buy into this story? Or is it likely to play out this way?**


	4. Chapter 4

Author's notes:

1\. Sorry to all the Battle of Wills enthusiasts, I promise my next update is going to be that story! But I bought a nice behind the scenes book of Harry Potter where I saw JKR's chapter planning scheme which I decided to try and I had written such a nice outline for this story that I couldn't resist updating it.

2\. This story is quickly turning into my most elaborate project yet. I have a total of FIVE intertwining plot lines in this story whereas previously I only had a single plot: getting HGMM together. So please bear with me :)

3\. As you will surely notice, Hermione will become increasingly OOC for a good while. I promise there is a very good and very deliberate reason for that which will reveal itself by the end of the story. Until then please exercise willing suspension of disbelief **:)** Guesses and speculation are always welcome. **Winks**

4\. MUSIC: As not everyone is going to like my music I am trying to reflect on what each song is meant to convey so that the story will still be enjoyable for those who skip the songs. Please let me know if I'm doing a good job with this?

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

The room in which Hermione was kept under strict watch was barely lit, the curtains closed, the only light coming through the crack Minerva left when she didn't close the door completely. She and Poppy assumed that it would ease the young witch's suffering once she woke up, and hoped that she might appreciate the sentiment.

Minerva always felt eternally grateful for her animagus senses whenever she had to walk into a dark room. In her third year she was pushed into an unused broom closet by her peers. In their minds it was nothing more than a harmless prank, but for Minerva it ranked rather high on her list of most horrible times of her life. Unknown to her classmates, the room was occupied by a boggart and, as they had yet to cover them in Defense Against the Dark Arts, she had no way of escaping what appeared to be her father raging at her for being a witch and demanding that she give up with her sinful ways. She loathed entering dark places right up until her first successful animal transformation which resulted in her significantly improved night vision.

Of course, being an animagus had other perks as well, such as improved hearing. Even through the faltering music playing in her mind she could hear the girl's breath hitch in her throat as she caught on to the fact that someone was with her in the room.

 **[song1: Anything from Immediate Music]**

"Wh-who's there?" Hermione croaked out, her vocal chords not as obedient as she would have liked them. She found that her throat was as dry as a parchment. Stirring weakly in the bed she turned her head in the direction of the light, squinting into it in the hopes to discover who her visitor was.

Minerva, weary after their last encounter, wisely said nothing as she walked closer. Hearing the younger woman clear her throat she reached for the glass and jug at the bedside table and offered her some water. Hermione tried to sit up but it appeared that withdrawal symptoms already started plaguing her in the form of temporary muscle failure.

The older woman took pity on the girl and sat down on the bed, holding the glass in one hand while she reached behind the young witch's back and under her armpit to help her sit. She positioned the glass to Hermione's lips who drank in as large greedy gulps as Minerva would let her.

In a matter of moments Minerva found herself fiercely blushing – yet again something she would have to mull over later. _'There's certainly plenty of that going around recently...'_ In her mind there was something very intimate in the way she gently held the glass to Hermione's lips while she was cradled into her embrace. The odd mixture of feeling thrilled and at the same time very much responsible for the fragile creature in her arms was something that puzzled her. In Minerva's reasoning only the latter should have been acceptable.

The thin ray of light that penetrated the darkness was enough for her magically enhanced eyes to see that some water had escaped the younger woman's lips and were now dribbling down her chin onto the covers. After putting the almost empty glass back on the table she used the sleeve of her own robe to gently wipe away the excess liquid. The gentle act of caring sent another chill down her spine and she suddenly found herself hoping that, given enough time, the bushy haired young woman would allow these small acts of kindness to form a connection between them rather than push her away again. Why she so desperately needed that connection all of a sudden was something she would have to figure out once her charge was taken care of.

* * *

Hermione, torn between feeling touched and embarrassed, cleared her throat again. Despite her current condition, she too realized the emotionally charged nature of her mystery visitor's interaction with her. A sense of gratefulness washed over her, yet there was a mixture of simple curiosity and weariness tugging at the edges of her mind. Being in a strange place and being cuddled by a strange person was certainly not something Hermione's past year had taught her to trust unquestioningly. But it was so dark in the room that she had no idea either about her whereabouts or the identity of whoever was holding her so closely. The scent was familiar, and the only reason she was not panicking was because she somehow associated safety with it, but her mind was slow and she felt groggy. "Th-thank you." She said eventually, hoping that at least she might recognize the voice if they replied.

Minerva dared not answer. Instead she just smoothed the matted hair out of the younger woman's face. That was yet another act of caring that Minerva tried to write off as motherly or even teacher's instinct, but even as the thought formed in her mind she knew that it was something entirely different. She internally berated herself for her emotional turmoil and her un-Gryffindor-like cowardice, but she was not at all looking forward to another possibly physical fight with the girl. She had regretted slapping her and she had yet to apologize for it but had a suspicion that Hermione might be volatile if she were confronted with her identity just yet.

* * *

The silence was thickening between them fast, neither woman knowing how to proceed. Hermione felt fragile and uncertain, the last few days were nothing more than a fuzzy jumble of images with frequent intervals of blackouts in between. It was the most sober she had been in a while and she was not sure whether to like it or not. Oddly enough she did not remember waking up to nightmares. _'Ch, that'd be a first...'_ Her thoughts were turning sour rapidly as loathsome images bombarded her mind in quick succession. Her first kill. Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry seemingly dead in Hagrid's arms. Bellatrix Lestrange. The turmoil after Voldemort died. Rogue death eaters murdering innocent people. Bellatrix Lestrange. Minerva slapping her...

Before Minerva could finally work up the courage to speak a new tune started playing inside her head, causing the words to die on her lips.

 _Everything is so dark  
And I know there's something wrong but I can't turn the light on [_ **song 2 – Never go back Evanescence from Synthesis album** _]_

Yet again a melancholy song, betraying more hurt and pain than the first. Instinctively Minerva hugged the girl in her arms closer to her side. _'I wish I could take your pain away...'_ She thought sadly. Although she had always cared about her young lions she had yet to examine exactly why she was feeling so excessively protective of this one. Suddenly an image flashed in her mind: Hermione's furious eyes, just before she roughly smashed their lips together in a desperate kiss. She banished the thought, brutally wiping even the trace of it from her consciousness. _'THAT is not something I ought to be thinking about right now... she wasn't herself, she didn't mean it.'_ Minerva reasoned with herself, but to her utter horror she couldn't help but remember that her body seemed to mind the kiss a whole lot less than her mind.

The older woman could feel her body tensing, which caused the younger woman to tense in return, getting ready to pull away. It was then that she noticed the barely audible sniffs and sobs Hermione had been struggling with. _'Merlin... I was so preoccupied with myself that I didn't even notice her crying?'_ Realizing that the girl was crying in her arms she turned towards her more fully to give her a proper embrace, allowing the brunette witch to hide her face in the crook of her neck.

[music shifts **– song 3 tourniquet - Evanescence]**

She concentrated on the music the spell was projecting into her mind, as she held the crying girl close to her, unconsciously rocking back and forth in an attempt to calm her. Minerva knew enough about the spell to know that it was not a literal translation of Hermione's thoughts – if that were the case she might as well just have used legilimency on her. In an effort to at least offer the pretense of privacy the spell chose music that would act as a metaphor for the monitored person's thought patterns. The ones that had been playing since she entered the room were like a ray of hope to the animagus, as each and every one of them, while despairing and sad, gave her the vague impression that Hermione was not happy with the way she was turning out and did indeed want to be saved.

Hermione's thoughts were not as coherent as Minerva would have thought though. She mostly only wanted to forget. Forget her past, be relieved from the pain and nightmares, the shame. And she also wanted to be relieved from her future. The expectations she was not sure she could or even wanted to live up to. But in addition to the tremendous amount of self-loathing she was also grateful that the yet to be identified witch – for she was sure it was a woman – was there to hold her. All she wanted to do after the horrors she had experienced was to come undone, to be the one to be cared for, to be anything else than the brains of the Golden Trio, the perfect war heroine. It was the first time in months that she allowed someone to just hold her. She never dared to cry in front of others. Being _the_ Hermione Granger meant that people looked up to her far too much for her to afford showing weakness.

Yet there she was, hiding like a broken creature in the arms of Merlin knew who, and it felt GOOD. Hermione wrapped her arms more tightly around the warm body for comfort, feeling more secure than she had in over a year. Yet despite the reassuring care of this unknown woman she couldn't let go of all the pain, she could not allow herself to completely break down just yet. But this body felt so nice against her own, she couldn't resist this small act of reaching out. Without thinking, she moved a hand up the nape of the woman's neck, her body seemingly having a mind of its own.

Minerva froze when she felt a questing hand move up the back of her neck. _'oh Merlin, Hermione...'_ She felt trapped, her hand refusing her will to move to stop the younger woman. She dared not speak, lest Hermione be able to identify her but she was certain that allowing the younger witch to roam her body was an equally disastrous idea.

Hermione's hand bumped into what appeared to be a bundle of hair and she froze immediately. _'A...a bun?'_ She knew all too well that from every single person she knew only one witch wore her hair in a bun. She suddenly jerked away from the previously so soothing body as if it had burned.

[ **music shifts – song 4 Disturbed – pain redefined** ]

"M-Minerva?" Hermione stuttered. The scarce images that her mind had retained from their last encounter started violently flashing in front of her. _'Oh GOD I'd kissed her...and she slapped me...'_ The younger witch frantically tried to put some distance between them, but she was still sore and her muscles refused to work properly. She did manage to pull away from the woman but not at the rate she had wished she could.

 _Memories don't lie  
You're no better than  
Memories don't lie  
You're no better than_

The animagus in question willed her hearing to breach past the violently disturbing music that now started up, desperately wanting to reach out to Hermione who pulled away from her embrace so abruptly.

"Wha-what the hell are you doing here?" Hermione had finally found her voice. Suddenly all the calm she had gained from the woman was gone, she felt angry and confused. She had no clear recollection of what transpired between them except two things: she and Minerva had been fighting about Merlin knows what and then the woman slapped her after she was stupid enough to kiss her. _'What the bloody hell did I do that for?'_ Through sheer power of will Hermione made her aching legs work in order to pull them up in front of her chest as a protective barrier against the woman whom she least wanted to see at that moment.

Minerva winced at the tone her young ex-protégé used, saddened by the message her body language screamed. If she were honest she had expected it but she hoped against hope that they might have a fresh start. "I'm sorry Hermione. I merely meant to check up on you and comfort you." Minerva said truthfully.

"And what made you think that I'd want YOUR comfort after what you did?" Hermione spat, her voice turning ugly with the rage and shame she was feeling. _'She bloody HIT me!'_ The young witch was seething. She needed her rage, needed to cling to it with both hands lest she die from utter mortification.

"You seemed to be enjoying it rather a lot just a minute ago." Minerva replied tersely. The moment the words were out of her mouth she mentally slapped her forehead. She should know better than to taunt the young woman but this blasted curse of a music playing inside her head was driving her mad. The drumming was much too violent and resulted in a painful throb just between her eyes, rendering her rather shallow reserve of patience even more meagre.

"I didn't know it was you!" Hermione ground out between her teeth.

"Would it have made a difference?" The older witch asked, already fearing the answer. The very notion that the girl would reply in the affirmative pained her more than she cared to admit. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to help the talented young woman.

"What do you think?" Hermione scoffed indignantly and moved further away from the older witch. "You fucking HIT ME!" The last words were screamed hoarsely as she tried to smother the pain that came with the memory. All she ever wanted was to please the older woman, to live up to her expectations, to make her proud. _'To love h... no. No, you are not going there Hermione. She went and bloody hit you when you kissed her, remember?'_

The older witch felt a guilty pang as she flinched at the fury in the younger witch. "You left me no choice..." Minerva began weakly, knowing that it was not an excuse. Before Hermione could respond anything she hurried on. "However, that does not make it right. I should never have hit you, Hermione, I am truly sorry. " _'But you should never have kissed me either...'_ Minerva kept the last thought to herself for the time being, judging that it was not wise to broach that topic just yet.

"A bit too late for that, Professor McGonagall." Hermione bit darkly, reverting to using the older woman's honorific, which she had not done for some time.

* * *

It hurt. The use of her title in such a spiteful way had hurt Minerva more than she was willing to acknowledge just yet. She would have to mull over the extent of that pain a little later. The animagus took a deep breath, gathered all of her Gryffindor courage, and experimentally laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder in an attempt to reach out to her. "Hermione..." that was all she managed to get out before the other witch jerked away yet again.

"Don't touch me! GET OUT!" Hermione screamed. Her voice was rapidly reaching a pitch Minerva had never heard from the woman, signalling starkly that she was on the verge of becoming hysterical.

Knowing a lost battle when she saw one, Minerva chose to relent for now, hoping that they would have plenty of time to reacquaint themselves to a more friendly relationship once Hermione was more herself. _'The goddamn potion must still be influencing her ability to control her emotions.'_

"Very well. But for your information, you are currently in a heavily warded room at McGonagall Manor. Your wand had been confiscated and your are under...constant medical supervision." The older witch made it to the door as she said that, forcing her voice to sound as neutral as possible.

She waited at the door for a moment for her final attempt at reconciliation to break through but when she received no response she added, rather hoarsely. " No one knows of the true extent of your predicament other than Poppy and myself. Harry and Ronald have received but an edited version of what truly."

* * *

Although Minerva never condoned the idea of drowning one's issues in drink she felt the undeniable need to pour herself a healthy glass of Firewhisky. She was nursing the liquor sprawled on her sofa, as she stared into a blazing fire. The music constantly playing inside the animagus' head became more and more unbearable. Ever since their argument a couple of hours ago it had portrayed nothing but rage, violence, loathing, hatred. _'Merlin, she's so angry. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.'_

Several minutes later she was pulled out of her gloomy thoughts by the familiar popping sound of one of her house elves appearance. Minerva shook her head to clear her thoughts, expecting to hear that she was needed at Hogwarts despite Filius' earlier message affirming the contrary. _'After all, it IS Hogwarts... chaos can break out within a matter of minutes within those walls...'_

"Yes Milly?" She acknowledged the tiny house elf. She was rather fond of the ageing creature, who had taken it upon herself to befriend her and make her feel herself at home when she inherited the estate from her mostly estranged Ross ancestors. As far as she knew her pure-blood grandparents had not been impressed when their only daughter chose to marry a muggle and had completely cut their ties off. And so, it came to her as rather shocking news when an owl landed on her desk bearing the last testimony of grandparents she scarcely knew, claiming to leave Ross Manor and all that entailed to her. _'Well it's not like they had any other living relatives...'_

"A Mr. Ronald Weasley is here to sees yous, Minerva. He is looks quite earnest and anxious to bes admitted." Milly replied dutifully. While she had eagerly taken on the task of making her new mistress feel at home it had taken her a long time to get used to addressing her so informally. However, Minerva was adamant, reminding her at every turn, and slowly Milly accepted that it was not a form of empty kindness on her mistress' part but a genuine request.

Minerva, if possible, looked a wee bit more aggravated than before Milly's appearance. She pinched the bridge of her nose, contemplating whether she could possibly ignore the redhead young man, before she sat up with a heavy sigh. _'I suppose I cannot...'_ The very fact that she had wanted to made her look at her own motivation more closely. That Ronald Weasley was in love with Hermione was blatantly obvious, as was the general population's expectation that they should marry sooner or later. But she thought the idea rather irksome which in turn made her feel exceedingly guilty. _'And just why in the world should she NOT marry him, Minerva McGonagall?'_ She chided herself. The animagus tried to reason with herself, enumerating all the reasons that made her think they were not well-suited for one another, but a nasty little voice had appeared at the back of her mind, taunting Minerva that if she looked at it closely enough she might have some less selfless motivations as well.

"Thank you, Milly. Let him in..." She said, resignation clear in her tone. Minerva McGonagall was not particularly thrilled to discuss anything with the young Weasley boy. _'With all this agonizing music screaming inside my head I shouldn't be too surprised if I hexed him into next week within minutes...'_

* * *

"What do you mean I cannot?" Ron asked, completely dumbfounded.

"Well, the expression generally means that you are either incapable of doing something or are not allowed to. It this case it is the latter." Minerva quipped in a snarky tone. They had not been talking for more than three minutes and Minerva indeed was losing her temper. The frustration clearly evident on the ginger haired man's face reminded Minerva that she had not been particularly helpful. With an inward eye roll she attempted to rein her temper in. "Look, Ronald, she is...exceedingly fragile and completely unpredictable at the moment. I simply cannot let anyone in yet."

"But I'm her best friend! Surely she would want to see me!" Ron said stubbornly.

"Like she had wanted to see you the last few times she completely evaded you and Harry? Which is why he asked for my assistance in the first place?" Minerva inquired.

The youngest male Weasley had no comeback for that. He was still miffed at Harry for ever involving McGonagall in the first place, but he had to grudgingly admit that the woman was exceedingly efficient where they failed miserably.

"Please? I desperately need to see her." Where force and stubbornness failed, he hoped that puppy dog eyes and embarrassing honesty would prevail. "I don't know what's happened... one day I thought we were getting somewhere...and then the next it was like her personality completely changed."

Although not for the right reasons, Ron had accidentally nailed it. Minerva McGonagall was completely astonished at the boisterous young man's admission and felt quite embarrassed for a moment. _'If they truly had something going on before...'_ However, when Minerva lined up all the facts and arguments they simply did not add up. _'Perhaps Hermione had changed her mind but Ronald refused to accept it? She certainly didn't say anything about them to me when she was helping with the renovation of the castle...'_ Minerva mused, all the while racking her brain to find a way to dissuade the man standing in front of her from wanting to see Hermione.

"Mr Weasley. It is not going to happen, I'm sorry. She's just woken up today from the magical coma, she's disoriented, and the potion she's been using is still wrecking havoc with her emotions. She's volatile at best." Minerva finally settled for the truth. Admittedly it was a heavily edited version but every single word had been nothing but true. "That's my final word." She declared imperiously, using her sternest Professor McGonagall voice.

Ronald Weasley, this aspect of him had not changed much since childhood, was fuming, his ears turning red almost instantly. He considered whipping his wand out and charging through Hermione's door only to realize that he did not actually know where the woman of his dreams was being kept. _'Goddamnit...'_ It seemed that the only thing he achieved was alert his formidable ex-professor about his intentions as Minerva jumped from the sofa on which she had been seated and marched right up to him, promptly getting in Ron's face.

"If you so much as DARE to think about charging into that room I swear I'll hex you into oblivion Ronald Weasley!" Her eyes were ablaze with anger. Truly, when personal issues were at stake, it did not take much for her temper to get the better of her.

Yet another thing that rubbed on Ron both from auror training as well as a year on the run was to know when it is advisable to retreat. Sometimes it was much better to run and fight another day than to die trying. "Will you at least give her a message?"

"Which would be?" The animagus asked suspiciously.

"Just that I miss her. And that I hope she gets better soon so I can see her." He said, not wanting to repeat his earlier words. Meanwhile his mind was working furiously.

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Minerva consented. "Now... kindly see your self out, if you would, Ronald, I have had a gruelling day and the couple of next weeks ahead do not look even a speck brighter."

"Fine..." Ron spat disdainfully.

* * *

 _'What a bloody horrible day...'_ Minerva mused as she settled back on the sofa, nursing the same Firewhisky she had poured herself some time ago. Just as she was about to doze off her fireplace caught her attention when the yellow-orange flames suddenly turned venomous green. "What the hell is it THIS time?" She ground out, hoping that it wouldn't be Potter.

"I've merely come to check up on Hermione, Minerva. But if this is not a convenient time?" Poppy replied tersely.

"Ah, Poppy. Of course. My apologies, but I just sent Ronald packing not long ago. He was bent on seeing Hermione." Minerva explained. "However...seeing how she damn near hexed me with her eyes alone today, I suspected that any more visitors might not be a good idea."

"That bad, huh?" Poppy said, steeling herself in preparation for the hell she was likely to get from the girl.

"Well...we were actually connecting when she had to go and start exploring... her hand bumped into my bun and she started screaming almost instantly." Minerva said matter-of-factly, not even thinking about how her words sounded.

"Exploring, eh?" Poppy said, surprise and humour lacing her words.

Minerva at first did not even understand, she had half the mind to ask what was Poppy on about when her own words echoed inside her head and the double meaning of her unfortunate phrasing of events suddenly hit her. "Uh... she started crying, and I moved to comfort her. She seemed to want an embrace. And then her hand moved into my hair for whatever reason." She clarified, the last words spoken in such a rush that they were almost unintelligible. She could feel a blush creeping up her neck. _'Bloody hell...'_

"For whatever reason... uhum. Well, I shall leave you to ponder these reasons, as I am sure you were doing just that when I arrived. I will be back momentarily." She gently touched Minerva's shoulder as she passed her, giving her a reassuring look.

* * *

When Poppy walked out of Hermione's room a good solid hour later she looked but a shallow ghost of her normal self. Minerva, instantly growing concerned upon seeing her friend's shaken expression, rushed to her side. "What happened Poppy? Did she hurt you? Is she okay?"

"Well... she's a right sight better than Agatha had been, the anti-toxin potions seem to have done their job. But that's about the only positive thing I have to say." Poppy replied. "She's in a foul emotional state. I'm not sure if it's a miracle or a curse but it seems she's more psychologically addicted than physically. While she is not in any immediate danger of dying from organ failure the withdrawal backlash is going to be hell, Minerva." She paused for a moment then asked "What's the music like?"

"Right now? Melancholy. Self-loathing, bleak. But when I last exited the room it was nothing but violent rage." Minerva answered.

Poppy was deep in thought for a few minutes, distractedly brushing her cheek with her thumb as she rested her chin on a propped up hand. "I think you ought to check up on her as often as you can. Anger is better than self-loathing. I fear there might be a real danger of suicide attempts." She said finally. "I shall come tomorrow to check on her again." The medi-witch stood up to leave, still visibly shaken.

Minerva grabbed her arm as she stood, looking the medi-witch straight in the eye as she turned back. "Poppy. My cousin died because NO ONE found her in time. The lot of us are just as much to blame as anyone else who knew Agatha. Do not torture yourself with the past. No one holds you accountable for her untimely demise." She said earnestly. Her coward of a cousin died because she took to that potion rather than face her reality and they had all been late to realize it. Poppy's only fault was that she was human and as such, incapable of god-like miracles.

Haunted eyes stared at Minerva's green ones for endless moments. The animagus was not quite sure if Poppy was staring at her or though her, but she held the gaze unwaveringly. She had meant what she said. Finally Poppy blinked with a sigh. "Minerva... as far as I'm concerned, Agatha died because I had told her that it was not pr-proper for me to start a relationship with an apprentice." Her voice broke over the offending word. Since then the medi-witch had often wished that she had a time turner only to go back and slap her younger self silly. Then a spark went off inside Poppy's head and she asked "Minerva...is Hermione... in such a state because you refused her?"

* * *

 **TBC**

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	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So I was given the rather sound advice by published authors that if I have multiple stories in the oven I should always write the one I have ideas for because if I *try* to write one out of compulsion it'll just be all sweaty and not so entertaining. That being said... I can promise that there's one more Chapter to A Battle of Wills (and then there'll be a sequel!) but it feels like that story has already been ended. And right now, this one was speaking to me so nicely I just had to write the next chapter :)

* * *

 **Save me... from me Chapter 5**

* * *

The soft crackling of the flames dancing in the fireplace was the only sound that broke the heavy silence in the parlour at McGonagall Manor. The two witches, their eyes locked on one another, seemed to be frozen in time, although for entirely different reasons. Minerva's face registered shock, her normally keen and penetrating mind only now puzzling together the pieces she had been oblivious to. _'Merlin, what if she DID kiss me because she meant it?'_ Poppy, on the other hand, remained silent and unmoving with the age-old wisdom of accomplished hunters who knew that their most valuable weapon was patience. One cannot go hunting for big game if one is not willing to wait for it quietly.

„Sh...she kissed me." Minerva stumbled over the words uncharacteristically, almost as if she were afraid that uttering them aloud in front of someone would make it more real. The animagus stared at her friend with an emotion near desperation in her eyes, silently begging the mediwitch to make something go away that neither of them was sure was possible.

At first Poppy said nothing, waiting for Minerva to continue. It was unnerving to see their places exchanged thus, history perversely repeating not what passed before but rather its mirror image. She wished nothing more than to scream at the woman standing so thunderstruck in front of her, to push her into the darkened room to make it right, to share all the bitterly won wisdom she wished she did not have. The desperate need to undo what was done was overwhelming the mediwitch but she knew that the best she could hope for was to help evade a repeat performance.

"And?" She blurted finally when Minerva remained speechless. It was not exactly eagerness that coloured her voice, but a nervous foreboding as if she already knew what was coming. The sensation became stronger when Minerva looked away in what seemed like embarrassment. She had known the animagus for decades yet this was the first time she saw that particular emotion etched on the stoic face. Her lips moved and Poppy could almost swear that she heard the faint sounds of a whisper, but as the dark haired witch's face was partially averted she could neither read nor hear her words.

When Minerva felt a gentle hand brush against her shoulder she chanced a glance in her friend's general direction and realized that Poppy must not have heard what she said. The mediwitch looked at her with a reassuring and almost encouraging expression rather than the shock and disapproval she expected. "I slapped her Poppy... we were in the middle of a fight, it was a shock... the kiss I mean, I didn't think...I just...hit her." She repeated, her strained tone clearly indicating her shame.

"Well...I can't say that I'm pleased to hear that Minerva... but I dare say it's not something that can't be put right easily..." The easy tone Poppy used made Minerva look at her again. Astonishingly, the mediwitch seemed to be smiling at her with a knowing, almost maternal look, making Minerva feel like a silly schoolgirl lectured by the wise older friend about not being so foolhardy next time.

"Poppy... you don't seem to understand. That poor girl was in such a state... I was only trying to help her, and then she kissed me and of all the stupid things to do I slapped her. And now she hates me. I don't think there's an easy way to get around that. I tried apologizing but..." Minerva sighed. "Quite honestly I wouldn't be surprised if the next time I entered she'd hex me wandlessly."

"Have you tried kissing her?" Poppy asked suddenly.

"What?" Minerva nearly shouted in shock.

"You two...always seemed to have an odd connection. Thick as thieves as Pomona liked to say. Are you saying that you don't feel the slightest attraction?" Poppy asked tentatively. Spooking Minerva into denial was the last thing she wanted but some things really just needed to be said aloud to become real.

"Poppy! How can you say such a thing? She's forty-four years my junior!" Minerva yelped in still more shock. The simple fact that she blurted the exact age difference between them without even slowing down in her tirade to calculate did not go unnoticed by either of them.

"That's neither a yes nor a no." Poppy dead panned.

"I used to be her teacher! I can't abuse that connection in such a...n unprofessional way." But the moment she finished the sentence, even Minerva had to admit that the ending came out rather lamely. She could feel a certain quality of uncertainty creeping into her expression as her mind lingered on the memory of their one shared kiss. It wasn't soft or romantic, it was not at all like how most people like to imagine first kisses. It was rough, almost animalistic even, the desperate clash of eager and unwilling flesh but it was certainly emotionally charged.

"I believe used to is the essence of that. She isn't any more." Poppy said, sadness colouring her voice. "I'm not trying to talk you into it, Minerva. But before you push her away make sure that that is what you really want." She said. "And for the right reasons. I think that's probably the most important."

* * *

 _'You're a worthless piece of shit, mudblood...'_ whispered the voice for a thousandth time since she first woke up. There was no hiding from it, her disembodied stalker followed her everywhere, it was inside her, making every single moment of her existence torture. And it sounded exactly like Bellatrix Lestrange. _'Weak...pathetic excuse for a witch.'_

 _'Come now, you're being entirely too hard on her... she just needs a little trading up, doesn't she?'_ said a hitherto unheard voice. It spoke in a sickeningly sweet, condescending tone that was vaguely familiar but no matter how Hermione racked her brain, she could not put a name to this new visitor.

She was almost glad that someone or something was coming to her defence but for the glaring fact that even in her world, it was not a good sign to hear voices in your head. Especially multiple voices having conversations. _'Your world?'_ asked the voice of her tormentor incredulously. _'You don't belong in our world you filth...'_

* * *

"Settle down, mate." Harry tried to placate his best friend to no avail. He knew it was rather pointless but he tried nonetheless. Fortunately, Ron was predictable in more ways than one, including that whenever something was bothering him he'd invariably always turn to Harry for support.

"Settle down? Settle down?" Ron yelped incredulously. "That old hag has her imprisoned in a room all by herself and she won't let anyone near her!"

Harry gave him a flat look. "Now that is just not true... I'm sorry, mate, but I happen to know that she and Madam Pomfrey are regularly visiting her...it's just anyone else they don't want to let in yet." He said and as far as he was concerned he would have been done with it but he foresaw the shit storm his all time best friend was about to unleash. ' _Can't really say I blame him tho... if it'd been Ginny...'_ So he hurried on. "Look. McG says that she's...fragile or whatever. That they had to put a sort of anti-suicide charm on her or whatever."

The word suicide rang in the air heavily, effectively forcing Ron to swallow whatever retort he was about to come up with. His jaw slackened in shock. "S-suicide? What? They reckon she might want to do herself in?" The very idea was ridiculous even to think.

"It's what McGonagall said when I asked." Harry said. He had never been a very great expert with emotions and delicate matters, so despite how much he worried about Hermione and how desperately he wanted to see her he was willing to put his faith in Minerva McGonagall. "Look, she's like...her favourite student. I think possibly from anyone she's ever taught. I don't think she'd ever do anything to harm her."

"Harm who?" Came the familiar voice of yet another Weasley from the far side of the room.

Both heads whipped in the direction to see Ginny coming through the living room door. Harry smiled at his girlfriend in his characteristically awkward way that told Ginny just how much he loved her. Dropping her bag on the table she stopped not far from the two of them, hands on her hips. She did not fail to notice that neither her brother or her boyfriend were answering her. "Who's harming whom?" she repeated.

Both men looked at each other instinctively, silently communicating with each other.

"Guys... I'm shit at legilimency... so unless you want to sleep on the couch" she looked pointedly at Harry when she said it "you two better fess up..." She said in her best no nonsense tone.

Harry and Ron again looked at one another in a decidedly very male sort of way, both their faces clearly betraying that they both knew she'd actually do it just to prove her point. It was in an instant that Harry decided to confide in Ginny and a final glance at Ron told him that he would not mind.

"We were talking about Hermione and McG." He said not altogether helpfully. The redhead girl's eyes instantly became weary as thoughts flashed through her mind, puzzling together the pieces. They weren't exactly best friends, the two men she was currently talking held that title, but they were good friends so Ginny had quite a good idea of what had been going on. "So she chose McGonagall of all people to open up to? I wouldn't put it past 'Mione..."

"What do you mean open up to?" Asked both boys at the same time.

For a moment Ginny just stared at them disbelievingly. "Are you really that thick? Clearly she's been hurting ever since the war... I tried reaching out to her but she kept everyone at a distance." Ginny said matter of factly. "Surely you have noticed...?" She knew that neither were particularly well-versed in the art of noticing subtle changes in human behaviour but Hermione had been anything but subtle these last few months.

"Well... we did notice that she was somewhat more distant, and...was kind of aimless and partying around all the time and...well yeah, okay, I did notice. But I thought she'd just unwind and it'd be okay and then we..." Ron said, his words slowly trailing to a halt.

"Thought you'd then be together?" Ginny asked testily. "Reckon it'd just go away on its own? That's bloody fucking selfish, big brother." The ginger haired man had no retort for that but his ears were turning suspiciously red.

"And she was lying to us! She told Ron that she'd gone to Australia to get her parents and then it turns out she'd been painting muggle London red all this time..." Harry came to Ron's – and his own – rescue.

"So how does McGonagall come into the picture?" she asked Harry, ignoring both their excuses completely. She loved her brothers, all of them, and she had a great deal of esteem for Ron for what he went through with Harry and Hermione during the war but she could not deny that both of them, and especially her youngest brother, could sometimes be ridiculously thick.

"We asked her to help us track Hermione down because she kept evading us. She says she managed to find her. Apparently she's been abusing some potion but Minerva won't say what. She's in lock down because she's unstable and Ron here thinks that McG is keeping her against her will." Harry summarized the rest of the story, including the rather heated argument they had had before Ginny interrupted them.

"I think he's right." Ginny said abruptly, to the astonishment of both men. "If she's coming off some kind of a pain potion she won't want to be confined where she can't get more. But I think it's good for her." She elaborated which had the opposite effect on Harry and Ron. Her boyfriend's shoulders visibly relaxed as her argument started to make sense while Ron was obviously upset again that even his sister sided against him.

"So what...we just let her rot in that room all by herself?" He asked angrily.

"She's not rotting, you lughead!" Ginny countered just as heatedly. "Harry's right, the prof would NEVER do anything to Hermione to hurt her..." The redhead girl fell silent in contemplation for a moment. _'I wonder if...they've always been so close... what if McG is so protective of her because she fancies Hermione? Tho' I really can't see her acting on it... well...best not mention this to Ron just yet...'_

Recognizing a lost battle when he sees one, Ron threw his hands in the air in defeat. "Whatever you say... but I'm going to be visiting McGonagall Manor every day until she lets me in..." He said angrily and stormed out of the living room, apparating mid-step. ' _I'll show you who's not there for her...'_

* * *

Minerva McGonagall had always been a light sleeper, but these last few nights she was close to becoming a non-sleeper. Tossing and turning in her bed, she could do nothing but listen to the agonizingly sad music that had been playing inside her head for hours.

 **[song 1: Lithium – Evanescence]**

It was almost enough to make her depressed as well. And on top of everything else she had her own little problem to mull over. _'What is wrong with me?'_ She asked herself for the hundredth time since Poppy departed. It was entirely out of the question for her to fancy an ex-student that was over four decades her junior. _'I could be her mother...her GRANDmother even!'_ And especially one who was yet again in her care, albeit in quite a different sense of the word. The animagus stubbornly tried to convince herself that the only reason she was so preoccupied with the memory of that kiss was because it was so shockingly inappropriate. _'Yeah...never mind the fact that it's also the first time you'd been kissed on the lips since Elph died...'_ Almost as soon as the thought entered her mind she literally slapped herself on the forehead, silently berating herself for letting the thought slip from her tight control. _'Snap out of it Minerva...that kiss meant nothing. Your affections ought to be nothing more than friendly. It's a friend she needs most right now, perhaps a mother, not someone to use her...'_

Just as her thoughts wandered back to the music playing softly inside her head she was jolted from her half-delirious dream-like state by a violently wailing sound that replaced the music inside her head. Not knowing for a moment what the sound was she leapt out of the bed with the agility of her animal form, wand in hand, it's tip ablaze with light to reveal any possible sources. Then suddenly a gut-wrenching realization dawned on her and without a second thought she apparated into Hermione's room.

The guest room, now acting as a temporary medical ward, was completely dark for a moment until a single flick from Minerva's wand caused every object capable of emitting light to roar to life. The gas lamps had been turned off as a safety precaution but now they were magically ignited again, as well as the fire place that was now ablaze, revealing that the room was completely empty save Minerva's presence. The sickening sight of the abandoned room caused Minerva to run to the bathroom in a panic only to bounce off the magically sealed door.

"BOMBARDA!" Minerva yelled instinctively. A moment later she stepped through the wreckage that used to be the bathroom door, her vision slightly blurred by the dust swirling in the air in the wake of the massive explosion. Vaguely Minerva's mind registered that if Hermione's had been sitting on the toilet she would likely now be severely injured but fortunately she was not. The desperately wailing siren in her head told her that something much more sinister would await her.

As the dust settled and the animagus stepped further into the dark bathroom another flick of her wand engulfed the tiny room in bright light. To her utter horror there was a dark patch in the overflowing bathtub that she immediately recognized as floating hair. _'Merlin no...'_ The terrible sight caused such fear to grip her violently thumping heart that Minerva forgot for a moment that she was a witch and capable of magic. Her wand clattered to the ground as she leapt to the side of the tub and instinctively grabbed a fistful of hair to drag Hermione's head above the water.

Minerva desperately looked for signs of life as the pale face emerged from under the surface. Seeing only the slack features of someone who might as well have been sleeping had she been found under different circumstances, she dragged the limp body further out of the water. "Hermione!" Minerva yelped, softly slapping a cheek in an attempt to bring her back. When she received no reaction she hauled the young body into her arms and made a beeline for the bed in the adjacent room. _'Don't die on me, Merlin, Hermione, don't die on me...'_

Even in her frantic state she did not fail to notice how frail the younger woman's body was. She wasn't yet showing all the classic signs of malnourishment, there was still some flesh on her bones, but it was clear that she had been caught in the nick of time. In her haste she none too gently laid the broken body down on the bed and proceeded to feel for a pulse. Moments passed when Minerva herself did not dare to breathe, but to her relief, she picked up a weak and unsteady pulse meekly throbbing just under her fingers. _'Merlin, she's alive...'_

Vaguely recalling what the muggle boys in her village told her after that incident when the younger brother of one of them nearly drowned, she resolved to do whatever was necessary. Tipping the younger woman's head back she opened her mouth, wasting only a moment to stare at the lips she was about to descend upon, before she took a breath to force though the unmoving lips. She pressed her mouth tightly to Hermione's and exhaled the air forcefully, willing the oxygen to reach the younger woman's lungs. Raising her head only to take another breath she lowered her face again to repeat her efforts only to jerk back when all of the sudden she felt water spit squarely between her eyes.

Sputtering to get rid of the liquid that suddenly invaded her mouth and nostrils, Minerva was relieved beyond words by the wet coughs with which Hermione attempted to rid her lungs of the remaining water. Adrenaline rushed though her veins almost instantly and joy overflowed her senses to such degree that without thinking she whipped the younger woman into a bone crushing hug. "HERMIONE!" She yelled into the recovering woman's ear from a virtually non-existent distance which caused Hermione to yelp in pain. The brunette protested against the seemingly rough treatment but Minerva refused to let go. "Merlin, Hermione, I was so terrified, don't ever-ever do that to me again..." She ranted, kneeling on the ground while holding a decidedly naked Hermione for dear life.

Hermione was in shock. What had she done? Her last memory was of dragging herself out of bed to take a bath as she smelled so bad she could not bear herself. It was an exceedingly painful experience. Her body refused to work properly, her muscles ached and she wished for nothing more than even the smallest vial of potion to drive the voices out of her head. At some point the voices she had been attempting to drown with the potion had come back, no doubt because the magic of the liquid was leaving her body, tormenting her relentlessly. When the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange was not busy berating her and calling her names she was constantly warring with the other voice inside her head that alternated between taunting and defending her.

For a glorious moment she realized that she could hear neither of those horrible voices but with Minerva's voice, even though it was much more welcome in comparison, reality also came crashing back. ' _I nearly drowned myself...and...and...Minerva is hugging me.._ ' She was not sure which was more unbelievable. She had always believed in the sanctity of life. It took a great deal out of her when she was first forced to fire a spell that killed her opponent and now she nearly ended her own life. ' _But why in Merlin is Minerva hugging me?_ '

Hermione's repeated attempts to pull away were finally acknowledged and Minerva reluctantly let go of the younger woman. Suddenly becoming conscious of the brunette's state of undress she shyly looked away, fiddling in her robes for a moment for her absent wand. When she realized that she must have dropped it in the bathroom she willed herself to turn back to Hermione. She could feel that her face was turning fiercely red as she could not avoid seeing the younger woman's naked form huddled on the bed. In the end, she settled for pulling the bed sheets over the stock still form of Hermione.

The brunette in question only stared at the older woman in wonder. She could not quite figure out why the woman was so nice to her when she had been so horrid. "Why are you doing this?" she asked in such a small voice that Minerva only heard it because of her enhanced senses.

"Doing what?" She answered with a question of her own. She was keenly aware that here was the chance to connect with the young woman but it was clear that she was balancing on the edge of a complete breakdown. She had to tread with caution.

"You're being nice to me..." Hermione said.

The animagus stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip while deliberating her options. She could either make light of it or she could attempt to drive the point of how foolish the girl had been home with what she believed muggles call shock therapy. The latter being the more extreme measure she settled on trying to win the broken young woman's trust with empathy first but before she could say anything Hermione carried on.

"I've... I've been horrid to you these... I don't know, what it's been, hours? Days? I haven't quite been my self... I..." Hermione trailed off. ' _Should I tell her about the voices?'_ Her insecurities were still rampant and she was not sure what was happening to her.

"You've been hurting. And none of us were paying close enough attention to see it. Nor have I been particularly helpful if I recall recent events..." Minerva tried for truth. She hoped to convey to Hermione exactly how sorry she was for hitting her but the excruciating guilt she felt over her sudden lack of self-control was hard to put into words. "You can't possibly know how much I regret my hitting you..."

There was such sincerity in the older woman's eyes that Hermione could not help but feel just a bit less resentful about it. She knew she should be upset, she actually had a hazy recollection of being highly upset not long ago but she could not find it in herself to be as upset now. However, the conversation did remind her of the fact that she had kissed her ex-professor. Suddenly flushing red with embarrassment she averted her gaze.

Misinterpreting her reaction, Minerva froze momentarily. Fearing another burst of anger she got up from her kneeling position and sat down on the bed. "Hermione, dear." She said gently, attempting to get her attention. Moments passed but the younger witch stubbornly held her gaze averted. It was in this moment, waiting for Hermione to acknowledge her as the adrenaline slowly left her body, that Minerva noticed the sad music had started up again. ' _Probably when she regained consciousness...'_

' _I cannot believe she is being so...graceful about this...I bloody kissed her and she's not at all repulsed...but why on Earth did I kiss her in the first place?_ ' The normally brilliant young witch had never before felt quite so bewildered and especially not about her own behaviour. A half-formed thought crossed her mind that she might unconsciously be attracted to the older woman but she squashed the idea, startled that it might be one of the voices again. ' _But it couldn't be...it's neither that bitch nor that horrid condescending tone...'_

"Hermione?" Minerva tried again. When there was no response she gingerly reached out and made the girl face her. Now that brown eyes bore into hers she was keenly aware that they were just inches apart. Her eyes involuntarily flicked to the younger witch's lips which were currently pressed together in a thin line but in an instant she willed herself to look anywhere else, silently cursing herself for this lapse in judgement.

' _Did she just...no...no I'm hallucinating again...I must be hallucinating again. That's the only logical answer.'_ Hermione's brain was reeling. She could not deny the sudden chemistry that seemed to spark into life between them but had no explanation for it either. She had never looked at her professor like that before. ' _I'm probably just fawning over her because she'd just saved my life...it'll pass'_

"I'm so terribly sorry. Can you forgive me for slapping you?" Minerva's voice jerked Hermione back into reality.

"Only if you'll forgive me for kissing you..." Hermione forced the words out. She wanted to be over it, she wanted it to be a phase. She wanted to get rid of the pain and the voices. She wanted to move on.

"You don't need to apologize for that but..." She was about to ask why she did it in the first place but changed her mind in the last moment. It was very un-Gryffindor of her but she suddenly realized that she did not want to know. She told herself that she did not need to know as it did not really matter but a sarcastic little voice in the back of her mind mocked her that it was quite the contrary. "Water under the bridge dear," she finally said.

Both witches were awkwardly silent for some time, not knowing how to proceed from there. It was a truce of sorts which Minerva acknowledged as a great victory in comparison to their previous encounters but it was obvious that Hermione still had a long way to go before she fully recovered.

* * *

While logically Minerva knew that the charm would alert her again if Hermione was doing something foolish, the fact that she barely arrived in time glared at her with such intensity that she dared not leave the girl alone for the night. Admittedly, she was squeamish about sleeping in the same bed with her protege and offered to transfigure a chair into a bed for herself, but Hermione was adamant that if they were to sleep in the same room it was either she who slept on the spare or they shared the king size bed. Eventually the compromise was that Minerva morphed into her animagus form before curling up on top of the covers beside the now fully dressed Hermione.

* * *

TBC

What do you think so far? Any guesses what's up with Hermione? I'd especially love some feedback on the whole drowning/saving scene. Was it believable? Or was it substandard and should be rewritten? Did it have enough feeling or should I put in more description of their feelings?


	6. Chapter 6

Author's notes:

Okay folks, this is where it gets a bit messy. And royally OOC for Hermione. Not that it hadn't been so far, right? :) Well, I hope this chapter gives you a hint of the WHY. The HOW and the what will happen still remains shrouded from our inner eye but rest assured that it will come.

Please let me know what you think of this new instalment.

* * *

 **Chapter 6:**

Minerva work up with a jerk. Whipping her head around to identify her surroundings she noted several things at the same time. Rather than her own bedroom, she was in the room where she kept Hermione in confinement. And she was not in her animagus form any more either, but was lying on her back, fully dressed in her human form. But most disturbing of all, there was a body pressed up against her, holding her in a death grip. ' _She's having a nightmare.'_ Hermione's facial expressions were all too clear, they contorted at random intervals and she looked as if she was being tortured in her dream. ' _The poor girl is probably reliving whatever happened during their year on the run.'_

Although a voice inside her head told her to do the exactly opposite, Minerva opted to obey her heart and draped an arm around the younger woman's waist and pulled her closer to comfort her. She seemed to have eventually calmed the younger witch by murmuring reassuring nothings into her ear as she settled back into a somewhat calmer state of sleep.

"Are you quite sure that you are fine, dearest?" Minerva asked, still uncertain about how wise it was to leave the young woman alone. _'She seems to be doing better...but still, it was only a night ago that she tried to drown herself...'_ The animagus was uncharacteristically indecisive as she struggled with juggling various duties. She knew that Filius would not summon her if her presence was not absolutely essential but still she loathed to leave Hermione. They were making such good progress and to her relief, Hermione seemed to be much more cooperative than before. ' _Clearly the potion is clearing out of her system. There may just be hope for her.'_ Although in her more rational moments she knew better than to blame herself, but looking upon Hermione and remembering Poppy's haunted eyes she could not help but feel a pang of guilt for the woman tthey could not save. And she was determined not to make that mistake again.

"Really, Minerva. I think I can handle being alone for a couple of hours." Hermione said reassuringly between two bites. She had a vague memory of a bad dream she had in the morning but apart from that she had not felt so good in Merlin knew how long. The voices certainly seem to have disappeared which was a much welcome relief. And she wanted to make amends, knowing that she behaved dreadfully to Minerva. And then there was the fact that she was horribly ashamed of her suicide attempt. ' _It was because of those dreadful voices..._ '

Minerva silently watched the younger witch, contemplating the last several hours as well as the scene unfolding before her. Apparently Hermione developed a bit of an appetite she couldn't quite satisfy no matter how much she ate. She was on her third plate of breakfast and was eating it with such gusto that it was a joy to watch. ' _The fact that she's eating is a good sign. Her body is returning to normal. Merlin, I hope she won't suffer too much because of the psychological addiction.'_

"Very well. But only on condition that you'll keep this close by." Minerva handed over a quill and parchment that were of identical black colour. She knew the rules, Hermione could not yet have her wand back and any unmonitored way of being able to communicate with the outside world would be a temptation she did not want the recovering witch to face yet. So fire calls, owls and patronuses were completely out of the question. They could have talked directly mind to mind but Minerva doubted that the girl had the opportunity to master such a complex spell, and in any case, she was certain that the young woman was in no condition to perform it, especially without a wand. This meant that she had to resort to experimental technology if she wanted to ensure that Hermione could reach out to her.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, her interest momentarily piqued.

"It's something new based on the muggle experiment on ways of communicating with one another through wireless telephones. It's called a Twin Quill. A set of two quills have been charmed so that when you write on properly enchanted parchments the message appears on the other parchment rather than the one you are actually using. And only the twin of your quill can answer your message." Minerva explained. She paused there, allowing Hermione time to process the information and ask whatever might interest her. Another rule of potion-abuse recovery was that she should behave towards the recovering patient as normally as she could. In Hermione's case that meant that she ought to challenge the younger woman's mind as much as possible.

Hermione stopped eating to turn her full attention to the proffered items. They raised her interest in a way that precious little raised it in the recent past. "So... it only works with the proper enchantment? What were to happen if I used the quill on a different parchment? Or used a different quill on this one?"

' _She still seems to have it.'_ Minerva smiled at her protégée. "The quill would act as normal on any other surface. However, if you write on the parchment with a different quill that part of it will be ruined at present. It is something the designers are still working on but they are having a devil of a time working out how to differentiate between appropriate and inappropriate quills."

"Perhaps they ought to try enchanting the ink as well?" Hermione offered instantly.

"Explain?" Minerva prompted, intrigued by the idea and glad that the young witch was so easily drawn into conversation. ' _Her apparent recovery is almost uncannily good_.'

"Well the parchment could be enchanted to absorb only a certain kind of ink and throw off the rest in an attempt of self-preservation." Hermione elaborated.

"And what would be the gain versus enchanting the quill?" Minerva countered. She came to a similar conclusion herself when testing the items and was greatly interested in Hermione's conclusion.

Hermione furrowed her brows for a moment. "Well, I don't think these enchantments ought to be mutually exclusive. I'd try enchanting all three items for various reasons. The parchment to recognize the ink and protect itself from non-compatible material, the ink to be identifiable and the quill to act as a catalyst to send the message." Hermione explained animatedly. "What I don't understand is how the message is delivered only to the right recipients and not to everyone who has a similarly enchanted set of equipment. I mean... muggles use a set of unique identifying numbers called phone numbers to achieve that."

Minerva felt heart swell with pride as that had been the exact same question she asked the development team. "That, I'm afraid, is something I don't know either, as I am merely helping the Ministry by testing the item. But perhaps we could return to the topic at a later point? Will you use it to communicate with me if you are in need of anything? Anything at all?" The older woman asked, concern lacing her voice.

* * *

 _Some minutes after Minerva's departure..._

Hermione was idly flipping through the pages of a book she randomly selected when suddenly a splitting headache caused her to drop the item to grasp her head with both hands.

 _'Ah...alone at last. You're little suicide attempt nearly worked but that guardian angel of yours saved my ass just as much as yours...'_ The condescending tone was back with a vengeance.

Hermione dropped out of the armchair onto her knees, muttering 'go away!' on and on to the terrible voice that was torturing her in wake moments.

' _Oh child, like THAT ever worked...mmmm, you're just ripe for the taking... I don't think I've ever come across such lovely magic as you.'_

"NOOO!" Hermione screamed rocking back and forth on her knees, her hands clamped firmly over her ears in a vain attempt to block the nasty voice that was coming from within.

* * *

 _At the Burrow_

 _'Bloody McGonagall isn't going to keep me from seeing Hermione...'_ Ron fumed, muttering under his nose as he paced up and down the room. He woke up grumpy and to an empty house that morning as the many Weasley's inhabiting it were all off after their various businesses. What with Ron being an auror they were quite used to him sleeping at odd hours and seeing precious little of him at intervals.

After having replayed that scene so many times he came to the conclusion that the only place McGonagall could be keeping Hermione was in the room opening from that living room. He had to ask Harry to lend him his pensieve to look at the memory more thoroughly, and being the great chap he was, he did not ask why. _'Lying to him of all people would have been a bitch...'_ Ron mused absent-mindedly as he retrieved the rudimentary sketch he made of McGonagall Manor. He had to go by the assumption that he was not banned from the house and therefore the blood wards would not alert the Headmistress of Hogwarts to his presence. Other than that, he thought that he had worked out most of the plan. _'Damn bad luck Hermione isn't here to point out whatever I might have missed...'_ The red haired young man thought sourly. _'But then again... I'm a trained auror now! I can handle breaking into McGonagall Manor if I really have to.'_

* * *

 _Department of Mysteries..._

"Remind me again, Minister, exactly did I have to submit to this highly invasive process?" An irate Headmistress asked Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. The dark skinned man was standing on the opposite side of a simple table in a chamber that most resembled an interrogation room.

"Headmistress" Kingsley began his cautious reply. "I've already told you. I've asked Filius to summon you because I need your help. I'm asking for your support in a level 5 security breach. I cannot have any sort of magic in this room." He was acutely aware of the fact that he was addressed by his title rather than his name, which told him exactly how upset Minerva must have been. _'Well... she'll find out soon enough why this was necessary.'_

"But you've essentially rendered us muggles in here!" Minerva was outraged. Whatever the Department of Mysteries was up could not have truly warranted not only the surrender of her wand but the temporary stasis put on her magical core. Before becoming the Headmistress of Hogwarts she did not even know that such a thing was possible. Instantly she marvelled at why on earth all the death eaters were not submitted to it after Voldemort's first demise.

"Yes, and there is very good reason for it. Minerva, this report...there's some kind of an unknown magical creature on the loose. I cannot have this leaked." Kingsley replied firmly yet not unkindly.

"And you chose to freeze my magic rather than borrow some Thief's Downfall because...?" Minerva countered, becoming increasingly more irate. _'This blasted anti-magic bubble has even rendered me deaf to Hermione's music.'_ Although Minerva did not want to admit it even to herself this was the prime reason for her irritation. The fact that she could not feel a breech in either Hogwarts or her own home were entirely secondary.

"That is not up for debate, Minerva. The sooner you read this report the sooner you can leave the room and get your magic back." Kingsley replied. "And I expect I don't need to tell you that the document is secret kept?"

Minerva only scoffed indignantly and sat down to look at the offending material in front of her.

* * *

 _McGonagall Manor – Hermione's room_

Hermione had attempted to crawl on her hands and knees to the table where she left the Twin Quill but the splitting headache would not stop and her worn out body collapsed halfway across the room. She had just enough energy left to raise her head once again. Directly in front of her was a huge mirror in which she saw what must have been her own reflection but she did not recognize it. Her hair was matted and wet from sweating, her cheeks and eyes were red and puffy from crying. And much to Hermione's disbelief, her eyes were changed beyond recognition. The shock of her discovery sent enough adrenaline through her veins for her to crawl closer to the mirror. Her eyes were pitch black, her pupils seemed to have absorbed her chocolate brown irises completely.

 _'Yesss, little girl, that's me you're staring at, that is. And I am not going anywhere in the foreseeable future.'_

* * *

 _McGonagall Manor – outside_

' _Well, so far so good.'_ Ron thought optimistically as he set his foot inside the gates. _'Apparently old McG wasn't that pissed off last night.'_

He made his way across the lawn without any effort and was pleasantly surprised that not even the house elves bothered him. He had a vague impression that he should be suspicious of the easiness of the situation but he was much too focused on seeing Hermione.

* * *

 _Department of Mysteries_

As Minerva finished reading the report she wondered if she could get away with hexing the Minister for Magic. Arriving to the conclusion that she most likely could not she had to content herself with a frustrated sigh.

"Kingsley. Please tell me that this is just a first report and you have further information to present to me?" She made the effort to be polite. She really did. But the man was forcing her to go on virtually nothing.

"I wish I could, Minerva. But that's all the Unspeakables could come up with." The Minister replied.

Seconds ticked by as Minerva attempted to process the information. _'No magical signature yet supernatural. Seems to be of human intelligence. What is this creature? And why is it attacking?'_

"We have at least a dozen dead, Minerva. They all look like suicide but there's no reason whatsoever. We wouldn't even be able to connect them to one another if it weren't for that bit of discoloured flesh that appears on all of the bodies. And the one man who was caught in the middle of his attempt? He was raving about voices in his head and eventually had to be put into a magical coma because he became unmanageably violent within a matter of days." Kingsley said.

"And how do you expect me to be of use?" Minerva asked, her irritation momentarily forgotten. She made a mental note of thing to check on Hermione as soon as she got to her. _'Discoloured flesh. Did she have any bruises when I dragged her out of the water? Escalating aggression. Voices. If only she was not recovering from potion-abuse... that'd make it so much easier.'_

"I was hoping that you would be able to narrow it down? Or perhaps one of your staff? Your Magical Creatures professor perhaps?" Kingsley asked.

"I have no idea, Kingsley. You can recruit Hagrid to help of course, but I have never heard of a half-breed that could coerce a human to commit suicide with or without leaving a magical trace. I mean what's the point? Some kind of a feeding ritual? And voices? It seems like a psychic gift...or rather curse... but there must be a cleverly concealed magical trace left." Minerva thought loudly.

"Why would you narrow it to half-breeds?" Kingsley prompted, grabbing onto whatever little he could.

"You said whatever is doing this is of human intelligence. That specific characteristic pertains only to humans and half-breeds. Anything else is either below or above human intelligence." Minerva clarified. _'Or just plain different anyway... I wouldn't go as far as saying that certain creatures are really below humans...just different.'_

Kingsley's lack of response prompted her to continue her line of thought. "And to my knowledge it is absolutely out of the question that a witch or wizard could conceal their magical signatures. The same is true for half-breeds, mind you. Why not go for whatever is above human intelligence?" Minerva asked back.

"Well... Golden dragons are hardly to blame here. There's not enough carnage. And they're also not known to project voices inside their victims' heads. Cyclopses, while psychic, are thought to be extinct... I mean they're as tall as giants, I think we'd notice if one was rampaging in Britain. And...the only other group I am aware of are Phoenixes. I don't suppose you're accusing them of doing this?" Kingsley replied in an astonished tone. "Or do you know of any other above human intelligence species that could be in existence?"

Minerva sat silently for several minutes, racking her brain for a plausible answer. _'What if it's a Lethifold? Although that does not explain the voices...'_ Several times she moved her head suddenly which Kingsley perceived was her tell that she was about to say something but each time her eyes glazed over again which was a clear indication that she was thinking. The auror-turned-minister knew better than to break her train of thought so he waited for her to come to her conclusion patiently.

"I have no idea, Kingsley. I don't claim to have an overly extensive knowledge of magical creatures. I would suggest you consult with Hagrid, and I would suggest you go to the Society of Magical Historians and ask for an expert on extinct magical creatures. My guess is that we have something on the loose that we are overlooking because we expect it to be extinct." Minerva concluded.

She emphasized the finality of her statement by closing the report and standing. Gesturing towards the door indicated to the Minister that the Headmistress of Hogwarts had business to attend to and would like to leave the chamber.

* * *

TBC

Please Review!


	7. Chapter 7

The usual disclaimers apply. There is some pain but certainly no gain. Everything belongs to JKR except the music.

* * *

CHAPTER SEVEN

 _McGonagall Manor – Outside Hermione's room_

Ron found it entirely impossible that it could be so easy. He walked in as if he was walking into any shop on Diagon Ally and no one bothered him. No house elves in sight, and no Minerva either. He was banking on the assumption that the Headmistress of Hogwarts would eventually have to leave Hermione's side on some errand or another and to his astonished delight he lucked out. ' _Damn lucky she did... I'd rather not have an irate McG on my ass...'_

He crept closer to the door he guessed would grant him entry to Hermione's room, sweeping his surroundings furiously with his wand for any trace of protective magic. There was no trace of magic whatsoever. ' _Is THIS how McG is keeping Hermione 'safe'? She could bloody well walk out of her room if she pleased...'_ Ron scoffed. _'at least the door seems to be locked with a key though...'_

* * *

 _McGonagall Manor – Hermione's room_

Hermione was slumped in an armchair, hugging herself feebly and shivering. _'God, I need that bloody potion...it's the only thing that seems to keep these cursed voices at bay..._ ' She thought to herself miserably. When the horrible apparition disappeared she collapsed in front of the mirror with relief. Her first instinct was to write to Minerva with the Twin Quill but contrary to her hopes the green eyed witch did not appear by her side. _'I guess she's got more important things to do...'_

The brunette witch was so caught up in the throes of her misery and self-pity that she did not hear the key turning in the lock of her door so she was caught by surprise when the door opened. She instantly snapped to attention, expecting the familiar form of her mentor and host, but the relief that started flooding her senses was cut short rather abruptly when she realized it was Ron.

"Ron?!" She yelped in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, 'Mione. I was worried so I came to visit." Ron said tentatively. He remembered McGonagall saying that she was explosive and knew full well that Hermione was capable of wandless magic, so he decided it would be wise to tread cautiously.

The brunette witch on her part wanted to scream at the ginger man to get out. The logical part of her brain, the part that was mustering the remaining dregs of her will to walk the line, knew that in her condition only the most stalwart of characters were safe to interact with. Anything – anyone – less than that was unnecessary temptation. _'God, I can't believe I am actually thinking about Ron as a source of temptation..._ ' Hermione thought to herself miserably.

 _'Oh come now, girl, lighten up. He doesn't look THAT bad.'_ The taunting voice replied readily. Hermione pressed her forehead against her knees, vainly hoping that the pressure would mute the voice. _'If only I could drown this blasted voice...maybe Ron could get me some...'_

"Mione? You okay?" Ron asked, worry etched all over his face. His blue eyes were trained on the cowering witch's form. As he took a step closer he vaguely wondered if coming here was truly a good idea. _'Nonsense. Of course it was. Just look at her! All cooped up in this room without anyone to talk to.'_

Hermione did not respond, mainly because at this point she was more focused on what was happening inside her head than on whatever might be happening outside. For all of her awareness they could have been attacked at that very moment and she wouldn't have moved a muscle. The horrid voice kept telling her to indulge in all the bulging manliness that was so obviously lusting after her. _'I could teach you so much, girl. Just look at that boy's aura. One snap of your finger and he'd willingly become our whipping boy.'_

 _'I don't want a whipping boy, you monster.'_ Hermione argued. _'Oh great, now I'm talking back to the voices... I NEED MY DAMNED POTION!'_ She was screwed. There were voices in her head, taunting her and Minerva was nowhere in sight to protect her from them. And on top of that Ron was here. Her lovely but oh so tragically in-love friend whom she wanted nothing of. _'Well, except maybe some potion ingredients.'_ She knew that she should not be thinking about it but at this point she didn't care for the long term health issues. All she could think of was the wonderful lack of voices that came with the potion.

 _'Mmm, makes one of us, you know.'_ The voice's acid commentary reverberated inside her head.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron repeated when he got no response. While the female third of their trio, the woman he fell hopelessly in love with, was fighting her internal battle he got close enough to kneel in front of the armchair, struggling to decide if touching the girl would help or aggravate her more.

 _'Come on, he's ripe for the taking.'_ The voice egged Hermione on. _'I know you'd prefer that professor of yours...'_

 _'NO! Leave Minerva out of it, you bastard.'_ Hermione ground out inside her head. She could feel the voice, or whatever the voice belonged to, trying to take over her body again. It wanted to have sex with Ron, wanted to mark him, get him to do its bidding. It was sickening to feel her body go slowly numb to her will. _'It must be getting stronger because the potion is leaving my system...Minerva, where are you? God, I need help.'_ At this point all she could do was curl into a ball and cling to her legs for dear life. She needed to get Ron out of here before it was too late. A thought slowly formed inside her head. _'One stone, two birds.'_

"Ron?" She rasped, struggling to maintain control over her voice. "Ron, I need help."

"Just tell me what you need." Ron said reassuringly. His heart was breaking at the pitiful sight of his beloved Hermione being reduced to such a state.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was allowed to exit the cursed anti-magic bubble on condition that she help Kingsley track the mysterious beast that was supposedly wrecking havoc in England. The only reason she agreed was because of Hermione. While Minerva did not know what Kingsley might be after she was worried that Hermione's odd behaviour might be connected to it. The inexplicable aggression was certainly there.

 _'Not that an indecent helping of Excessus potions won't do that in itself.'_ She pondered. But she did not want to take had such severe blackouts that she could have come in contact with it and not know about it...whatever it was.

As she stood from the table where the thin volume of information was spread out she made a mental note to try to learn if the girl was hearing voices. She also thought that perhaps the discoloured flesh ought to be left to Poppy. The mediwitch's outrageous suggestion that she enter into any sort of liaison with the brilliant young witch left her second-guessing her every motive. Or rather it was the fact that she was not completely disgusted by said outrageous idea that left her wondering if she was doing whatever she was for all the wrong reasons. _'Where is this coming from anyway? I've NEVER looked at a student like that...'_

"If there is nothing else, Minister, I shall be on my way. Please inform me if you require anything else." She said in a strained voice. She was anxious to get out of the room. Upon Kingsley's nod she all but ran to the door and tore it open.

However, that was as far as she got because the moment she stepped over the threshold of the room her senses were simultaneously assaulted by two very distinct yet interconnected alarms.

 **[music suggestion: A Serpentine Crave by Bishop of Hexen]**

The combination of hideously violent music and the screaming of the danger siren nearly deafened Minerva with the force of their return. _'Hermione!'_ And if Hermione being in such an anguished state was not enough it further added to her alarm that the blood wards protecting her home came to life and jumped to a maximum defensive state in a heartbeat which could only mean intruders were inside her house.

The Unspeakable agent posted in front of the door immediately came to attention, wand drawn and ready to fire, not only because an unhappy Minerva McGonagall storming out of the room was in itself a nerve rattling sight but also because of the utter terror flashing in said witch's eyes. She stumbled in her stride under the sudden magical attack on her mind and her hand flew to her chest, grabbing a fistful of clothing for a moment.

"Headmistress?" The unknown Unspeakable prompted as his eyes darted back and forth between their surroundings and the formidable witch before him.

"My wand! Where is it?" Minerva all but yelled in her frenzy.

To his credit, the Unspeakable agent wasted not more than a second in producing the requested item along with the odd bit of black parchment that was trusted upon him. As he handed them over to the clearly upset woman Kingsley appeared in the doorway.

"Is anything the matter?" He enquired after having heard the commotion.

Minerva, having glanced at the parchment which read HELP ME in capital letters, did not say a single word. Pulling herself to her full height she gripped her wand and with an explosive bang apparated out of the Ministry of Magic.

The Unspeakable unit who was standing closest to Minerva staggered backwards from the sheer momentum of the magic the ebony haired witch's act required while Kingsley grabbed onto the door frame, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head in shock.

"Minister... I thought what the Headmistress just did was not possible?" The Unspeakable, looking completely thunderstruck, blurted the obvious after a few seconds.

"Apparently there is not much a Head of Hogwarts cannot do, Jordan." The Minister for Magic replied, remembering Dumbledore's unforgettable exit via that Phoenix of his. Then as an afterthought he added "I swear they are going to be the death of me one day."

* * *

Minerva wasted no time in apparating to the grounds of her home, she already knew that the threat was inside. Or rather, whoever was foolish enough to break in was either dead or in danger of dying inside. The powerful blood wards of her ancestral home were more than fancy unplotting devices. While it was true that those not welcome could not find the house it also offered literal defence. The Ross family line descended from an age when treachery and secretly premeditated murder were just as common as all out blood feuds and thus more protection was necessary.

Minerva herself only saw the house in action once. She had gotten into a heated argument with a 'family friend' after one of the dinner parties she hosted in an attempt to make the freshly inherited Manor more of a home. When she told the arrogant bastard to get out because he was no longer considered a friend of the family the house literally attacked him. To Minerva's mortification suits of armour stepped off their dais, animal skins seemed to magically inflate and come to life, and the entire house elf staff appeared swarming around him in a menacing crowd. Not knowing what was happening she side-along apparated him out of the house to save his hide because the wards would not even allow him to leave.

In contrast to her exit from the Ministry, her entry into the house was almost silent. She visualized the den from which Hermione's room opened and upon arrival was not surprised to find all of her house elves gathered there, armed with kitchen knives and meat cleavers. Prior to Minerva's entry they were all facing in the direction of the open door of Hermione's room where a pale as death Ronald Weasley stood frozen, but to his credit, with his wand gripped tightly in his hand, steadily trained at the elves.

"Mistress Minerva, Mistress!" Came the distressed voices of her loyal elves as they parted in front of her like water, allowing her closer to the 'threat'. "We not knows how the intruder gots in! The blood wards did not alarm us until after he was inside!" Milly said loudly over the general chatter and earnest avowals.

While the animagus acknowledged her elves with a curt nod and assurances that it was not their fault she only had eyes for the duo in the doorway. Ron, either simply because he was large enough, or because of some misplaced notion of chivalry, had most of the doorway blocked which meant that Minerva could only see a part of Hermione's face and bushy mane of hair. As far as she could tell the girl was in no immediate danger. _'What the bloody hell was that music about then?! And why on Earth does she know about such music?'_

"Mr. Weasley. You have one minute to give me a halfway decent reason as to why I should not just allow my elves to remove you from the premises." Minerva said in a controlled tone, each word precisely clipped. Her eyes were cold with rage and the twitching of her upper lip betrayed how much effort it required to keep her decorum.

* * *

 _Meanwhile at the Potters home..._

Ginny was just about to leave the house for an evening out Luna, Neville and some other friends when she realized that she forgot to active the housework charms. They always made her wonder how muggle women put up with all the clutter that accumulated throughout the week, knowing that they had to get rid of it the hard way. With their own hands. Flicking her wand absent mindedly, she was done with every household chore in a heart beat.

Her absolute favourite was the one that sorted out the washing. Instead of having to actually go through the piles of clothes to decide what to wash next, then go through it again just to check the pockets for stuff left in them she could flick her wand and all the pockets emptied before the clothes flew into the muggle washing machine they bought. An added bonus was that the contents of said pockets flew into her hands. It was no different this time either and soon she was pocketing spare knuts and sickles while depositing the other bits and bobs on the table. The only item that really caught her attention was a small box. Instinctively her heart started beating faster. _'Is that... oh my god... that's a jewellery box!'_ It was not bigger than a match box, nothing more could have fit it in than a ring.

She had half the mind to just discreetly put it among Harry's things but curiosity started eating at her soul almost instantly. _'Also, I don't think Harry would actually leave it in his pants pockets if he didn't want me to find it. Maybe the boy-who-lived wasn't brave enough to ask me The Question personally...'_ Ginny mused, fond thoughts about the bespectacled man rising warmly inside her.

She raised the tiny box closer to her eyes to take a better look. It was nothing fancy, just a small black box. In fact, Ginny realized, it felt like it was made of paper. _'Weird...'_ Turning the box upside down she noted some tiny markings on the bottom that vaguely resembled writing, but she couldn't make it out. She murmured a spell to enlarge it but contrary to her original intention it grew quite a bit bigger. This was when the red hair realized that she holding a shrunken shoebox in her hand. Sure enough, when she turned it upside down again, the markings revealed themselves to be muggle inscriptions of whatever they wrote on shoe boxes. _'Daaamn... and here I was getting my hopes up...'_

Pouting at the false alarm Ginny took the lid off the box, intent on banishing the shoes Harry must have bought and forgot to its proper place, and was promptly shocked into dropping it altogether, letting its contents roll out onto the floor. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?" She yelled in shock.

* * *

 _McGonagall Manor_

"A walk?" Minerva breathed the words menacingly. "A walk Mr. Weasley? You wanted to take a recovering potion addict for a WALK?" the last word was shouted. It was all the animagus could do to maintain some sort of control over her emotions.

"Now look here, Professor. She was all cooped up in that stuffy room and she had a headache. I thought some fresh air would have done her good." Ron tried feebly. While his excuses were ridiculous at best he could not be denied of being a true Gryffindor for he did not back down, not even when one of the most powerful witches of the century was looking at her as if she wanted to curse him.

Minerva was seething. Did the foolish idiot not realize that Hermione could have given him the slip in the blink of an eye? One of the reasons why she wholeheartedly agreed when Poppy said no visitors whatsoever was because precious few people realized what lengths addicts would go to get their fix.

"Ronald Weasley, if that is what you believe, I will not endeavour to explain to you how abysmally foolish your actions have been, it would be a moot point. You may exit the Manor on foot, after which you will be able to apparate. You can either see yourself out or you can be seen out by my elves. That much you do have a choice in." Minerva stated matter-of-factly. "But do not be fooled into the idea that you can leave with Hermione or conceal yourself to attempt her abduction again. The blood wards will not be quite as kind if you remain on the premises for more than five minutes."

By this point she had willed herself to drop her wand arm to her side for as furious as she was with the ginger haired man she did not want to hurt him. She had nothing to fear at this point, for the wards would not allow either Ron or Hermione to apparate out of the house and the elves still occupying the room would grant sufficient diversion for her to raise her arm again should the need arise.

"I'll find my way out..." Ron ground out. He too was struggling to reign in his own temper. His blood red ears testified that without a doubt. "But this is not the last you've heard of me, Professor. You speak of abduction but it is you who have imprisoned Hermione."

Minerva had not survived active participation in two wars due to lax reflexes or a slow mind. She comprehended the vague threat the moment the words left Ron's mouth and reacted almost instantly. Her wand movements were precise and economic, and the spell was cast silently, the only indication of its success was the soft glow emanating from the tip of her wand.

* * *

"Calm down, Ginny,and start again. You were talking faster than a house elf caught doing something naughty." Luna said, trying to get her friend to stop panicking. "What is it that you found in Harry's pockets? And why did you look? Mistrusting your boyfriend is not very healthy for relationships." The combination of her matter-of-fact words and the dreamy tone so characteristic of her had the desired effect.

While Ginny had been pacing back and forth in Luna's and Neville's living room up until that moment the normally composed redhead stopped dead in her tracks to stare at her friend. They'd grown close during the DA meetings and she had eventually learnt to appreciate the blond woman's way of speaking her mind.

"I found a shrunken shoebox in his pockets with a bloody strap-on inside!" Ginny exclaimed.

The blond witch's eyes perceptibly grew larger at the description. "Was it actually bloody or was that just a very unfortunate way of venting your frustration?" Luna asked the seemingly ridiculous question. To the casual observer she seemed to be barking mad, talking about creatures that did not exist and saying the most inappropriate of things nearly all the time, but her close friends had learned that she actually did everything for a reason. Right now her aim was to steer Ginny away from the rout of jumped conclusions by way of asking questions that made her look at the situation from a different angle. Possibly even a funny angle if she could manage it.

"Of course it was just a turn of phrase..." Ginny said, torn between laughing at the absurdity of the question and becoming more frustrated. She knew what Luna was doing and she had half the mind to let her.

"Have you asked him why he got it?" The blond witch enquired.

"Haven't had the chance to grill him about it yet. He'd still been at headquarters when I left the flat." Ginny admitted.

"Well knowing Harry, he is going to be extremely flustered about it. You know how he is with personal topics." Luna suggested. All of a sudden the proverbial lightbulb went on above her head and she dropped a bomb right in the middle of the conversation. "Perhaps he bought it because he wanted you to use it on him?"

* * *

The youngest Weasley boy never even realized the fidelius charm that Minerva had cast as he did not bother to look at her while he made his empty threat. Instead he stormed out almost immediately, followed by the house elves whom Minerva dismissed to return to their duties.

"What did you do with Ron?" Hermione asked nonchalantly.

She was still possessed by the voice but her chocolate-turned-black eyes were well hidden by the combination of the dimly lit den and the fact that she was avoiding eye contact.

"I could ask you the same thing, Hermione. What WERE you doing with him?" Minerva countered. She was angry. She had trusted Hermione. _'Suits me fine I guess... I have to stop thinking about her as Hermione, the mature young woman. She's not herself right now. She's an addict...'_

What Minerva did not want to deal with just yet was the fact that she also felt extremely guilty. Had she gotten Hermione's message in time perhaps this might not have happened. But she didn't dare acknowledge that out loud. After Agatha's death Minerva took it upon herself to read a few muggle books on recognizing and fighting addiction. In such an early stage of recovery the young witch needed strict rules and consistency. She meant to give no quarter for she knew it must be done.

 _'This one is going to be a tough nut to crack.'_ The voice inside Hermione's head mused. _'But if your memories are anything to go by Hermione, you might just be the one to do the trick.'_

"What do you want me to say? I screwed up... but where were you when you said you'd be there if I wrote?" The voice made Hermione say. It had a cold, calculating plan, banking on Hermione's knowledge of the older witch's sense of honour and loyalty.

Internally Minerva was crestfallen. Only her cast iron will supported her from being completely consumed by guilt. _'Merlin, and the terrible truth is that she is right. I did promise that I'd come to her rescue. Like some kind of a knight in shining armour...only my armour seems to be rather rusty.'_

"I had to enter a room that negated all magic. They even took all magical items off my person beforehand. I'm sorry Hermione." The animagus finally said. "But that does not negate the fact that you tried to escape."

"It won't happen again?" Hermione tried vaguely.

"No, it certainly won't. I've modified the wards of the Manor. The elves and objects will not attack you but they will not allow you to leave the Manor either." Minerva said in her best no-nonsense tone.

Anger flashed in Hermione's eyes as the voice's temper flared upon learning of its imprisonment. _'That's just bloody great...I guess we'll have to find another way out, won't we?'_

"Fine." Was all she said and promptly retreated into her room, banging the door behind her.

"Well... I dare say that went well." Minerva said to the empty room.

* * *

 **AN: Okay so I've come out in this chapter. The voices aren't just Hermione going insane. One of them is a sentient being that is trying to take over Hermione. I hope that explains the OOC for the time being. Later on I am going to reveal more (obviously).  
**

 **How am I doing with Minerva though? FEED THE AUTHOR, please! :)**

 **minor SPOILER ALERT:**

The reason there are fewer songs is because I'm temporarily phasing the musical element out of the story in about two chapters but not because I'm tired of looking for songs. The lack of music will be an important plot device later on. You'll see why *winks*


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